To bookmark:

Login or Sign Up

Mother Rhythm

By Ann E. Michael

It was a typical Monday morning at my house. The “get-everybody-out-the- door” routine had been at full throttle.

The kids were dressed, fed, brushed, outfitted with backpacks and coats; their father had sped off to work, the school bus had come and gone. I stood at the kitchen sink, absentmindedly putting breakfast dishes away, occasionally remembering where my coffee cup was, sorting out my plans for the day. The only variation in our morning was the presence of my sister-in-law, Nina, who sat at the table sipping ginger tea and observing our activities with bemused interest.

“Wow, I can see you really have a rhythm going here,” she observed.

This article is from the latest edition. Please Login or Subscribe to continue reading.