There is something oddly satisfying about sitting on this patio with the boy, watching him play with cups, a bowl, water, ice, and a piece of trash from the recycling bin. Not guiding him, not telling him how to play, not interrupting in anyway. Just watching him. Getting more water when he pours all of it on himself and more ice when it’s all melted. Watching him learn how to pour from a heavy a bottle. Watching him practice counting ice cubes. Letting him play until he is completely done playing. Not caring that he soaking wet, not caring that I’m drenched in sweat. Maybe it’s the 14 hours of combined sleep I’ve gotten in the past three nights or the 100+ degrees it is outside right now. Whatever it may be, I’m relaxed. He’s content and happy. Playing with trash.