Bryce wanted to know the name of everything, from acorns to squirrels.

Hazel called every flower “sun,” regardless of its color.

I sat beside Megan while the three of them explored a patch of grass under Ruth’s supervision.

The world was loud with birdsong, distant traffic and toddlers disagreeing about bubbles.

“They’re growing so fast,” I said.

“They always were.”

I looked at her.

She wasn’t accusing me.