It had been a long summer. Three whole months of constant togetherness were clearly wearing on us all—and it wasn’t over yet. Luckily, my children’s end-of-the-summer sports camp came at the precise moment a reprieve was desperately needed.
After checking in with the camp counselors, my daughters and I said our loving goodbyes, but truthfully, I was eager to break free. At this point, having my own thoughts without interruption and being responsible for only myself for a few hours nearly sounded like a tropical vacation.
After working on a few articles that were soon due, I made an effort to clear a path through the house. And when I did, I couldn’t help but notice the trails left by my children. You know, Kid Evidence. I noticed the way my younger daughter had carefully arranged the shoes in her makeshift dollhouse … the way her ukulele pick was placed right where she could find it … the way she gingerly set her glasses back on the second shelf when she came home from the movie. And among the disarray in my older daughter’s room, there was a notebook tossed on the floor open to a pretty decent drawing of her beloved cat, Banjo.
I hadn’t noticed these things earlier.
Because when the kids are underfoot, these tender, little details tend to disappear.