I make dinner most nights. I'm not a good cook but I try to make the simple things tasty. When I squeal into the driveway after work, I have about twenty minutes to get tummies fed. We like the tradition and even use the candles for every super. Ah, theatre people. Cold noodles taste better in good light.
As I prep in the kitchen, I can hear Greg and Ren playing with a new toy tool set. We had to bring one home after Ren obsessed over the carpenter who fixed our front porch. This happened two months ago and Ren still repeats his name at odd times:
"Ren, who loves you?"
I boil water. I light candles. I hear these kinds of sentences coming from the living room:
"Daaaaddddiieee. Loovvve ooo."
"I love you too, Ren. (Pause.) Don't hit the dog with the hammer."