On our way home from Peterborough on Sunday afternoon, both children fell asleep. Then Amelia woke up and began to sing. In fact, she was very nearly screaming her ABC's at the top of her lungs.
Mark and I glanced at each other and then the inevitable happened. Cole began to stir too. His face was puffy with sleepiness and he was groggy and he opened his green eyes and glanced over at his singing sister and then he sighed.
He said quietly, "I love you, Amelia."
Then he reached over and took her little hand.
They stayed like that for a while. Their little arms stretched across the distance between their seats.
Then, Cole said to her gently, "My arm is getting tired now, so I have to let go of your hand. When we're closer to home, we can hold hands again, Amelia."
That, in the world of parenting, is a blue moon.