(last night) the house

The house is tired. There are raisins on the floor. My workout shoes sit (unused and) forlornly on Alice's mat, surrounded by her books. There are three empty Hershey's Nugget papers scrunched on the kitchen table. Along with the stack of unpaid bills that are awaiting my attention. There is a Chip sitting in the den trying to get his weekly expenses done. The Chip is eating chips. I hear the crunching.

The house is sighing. In the humming of the refrigerator. In the quiet shhhhhhh of Bean's room monitor. In the whisper of my laptop's fan. In the click of Fergus' nails on the hardwood floor.

The house is full. Full of thought. Full of work. Full of food smells. Full of lists. Full of the too much that is sifting through my thoughts. Full of the rebounding laughter from our pre-bedtime game of throw-the-stuffed-sheep-at-Bean's-head.

The house is settling. There are a handful of tasks left to complete before --- before sitting down, before brushing teeth, before putting on soft socks, before letting a cat curl into my lap, before pulling my book out to read a few comfortable pages.

The house is waiting. Waiting for stillness. Waiting for quiet. Waiting for rest. Waiting for murmured goodnights. Waiting for kitty purrs. Waiting for the last light to be turned off. Waiting for sleep.