Last weekend we drove to the mall for grocery shopping.
You complained that I deliberately shut the door of the car too hard. I complained that you deliberately parked near pillars so it was difficult for me to get out. Ryan made heroic attempts to climb into the stroller on his own.
You asked me for the tenth time if there were many things to buy. I answered for the tenth time, “I am telling you for the fiftieth time now, you know there always is.” Ryan raised his arms to sit in the shopping trolley.
You lingered in the ice cream section. I lingered in the cosmetic aisle. Ryan gave an indignant cry of boredom. Time to go home.
I realised I hadn’t bought bread as you paid the bill. You told me we would get it tomorrow. We both knew this week’s menu wouldn’t include bread.
You loaded the groceries in the trunk, climbed into the driver’s seat and asked, “All three of you OK at the back?”
I smiled. Ryan gurgled. The baby inside kicked.
You drove home fast, but not too fast. I rested my head on the window. Ryan said “Cah!” when he saw a red truck.
You said, “We’ll be home soon”.
I thought. We already are. Right here. All of us.