8:30

He’s so tired she thought, it’s been a long day. A long week really. I’m glad he decided to stay.

Rowan grabbed the shabby and worn blanket from the back of the couch and gentle spread it over the sleeping Gareth. She fingered the worn softness of her favourite blanket as she tucked it under his shoulders. It made her happy that the old thing was still of use; she’d had the blanket since she was a kid and rescued it more than once from her mother’s attempts to discard it as worn out and useless.

And now she’d collected yet another moment wrapped in it’s threadbare weave. Rowan shook her head softly at the memory of the last teenage battle over the fate of her beloved blanket. She had started out calm and mature,stating that she had sentimental attachments and fond memories associated with the shabby bedspread. When that failed she’d moved on to the tried and true petulant and whiney until her mother had thrown her hands up in disgust and stomped off.

Really, we teach our children the entirely wrong things she mused.

And now two of her favourite things were here on her couch. Tomorrow would be soon enough to explore the mysteries of Gareth’s packet. Tonight he could rest safely swaddled in her blanket and she could quietly sit here and enjoy.