Glue
As Leila giggles blissfully at something Katie said, I realize that I lost a moment. Maybe I was on the phone, maybe caught up in my own head about some patient conundrum or another.
Cameron is tugging at his mother's sleeve. He tries to wile her attention from dinner and across the table to his iPhone where he discovered a new glitch.
It's pasta a la vodka night and we are all ravenous. A natural chef, Katie one day glanced over a recipe and created a masterpiece. We long ago lost the actual vodka and other ingredient modifications have taken place. It's now one of our favorites.
I tuck my shirt in carefully, and try to avoid splatter as I shovel pasta into my mouth. A busy day at work, I haven't yet had a chance to change. I received many compliments on the shirt throughout the day, and I don't want to ruin it. Katie bought it for my birthday. I can't quite remember when I stopped picking out my own clothes, but it was probably shortly after we met. Thankfully, I now look reasonably well put together and current.
After dinner the kids have violin group practice. Katie thought it would be a good idea to get them started on instruments early. That was years ago, and now the screeches have turned into intricate melodies.
Looking across the table at my family, I can't help but feel a certain pride and cohesion. We all have our place. I, the workaholic spacey dad. Cameron, the techy, sensitive son. Leila, tough and smart.
