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| 1. Bit here: My son Max prepared breakfast for us, in what appeared to be a peace offering. |
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| 2. Bit there: Aunt moments. One spoke loving nonsense; the other smiled a toothy grin. One giggled; the other burped in reply when I asked if he was full. Mmm, mushy bananas. |
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| 3. Bit everywhere: Daydreams about the man on whose hands I once inscribed lovenotes with my fingertips. [Extra good because earlier I texted my son for his birthday and he hadn't forgotten that we celebrated it.] |
