The World Could End Any Day

He left quickly this morning, balancing coffee cups and keys. The little angel and I had been squabbling -- she shrieked when I brushed her hair, I yelped when she accidentally stomped on my bare toes in her new tennis shoes. Beloved sighed and disappeared out the door.

The little angel stomped over to an old wooden chair I'd taken from my parents' house. It made a familiar squeak as she flopped into it, her lower lip sticking out.

"Why are you mad?"

Silence.

"I can't help you unless you tell me what's wrong."

I turned my back to her to unload the dishwasher. When I looked back seconds later, her little face was blotchy, tears streaking her face.

"What's wrong?"

"I didn't get to hug Daddy!" she cried.

I dialed the phone. "Someone's crying," I said, handing it over to my girl.

I could tell from her end of the conversation he was trying to reassure her she would get hugs tonight, that all was fine, but she started crying harder. Finally, she handed back the phone.

"He's coming back," she said, running outside.

I could imagine the frustration. He'd already been kind of late when he left, and I wasn't sure how far down the road he'd traveled before the phone call.

I could've spared him. I could've handled it on my own. But I didn't.

I knew he'd be late. But I knew he'd come back. And I knew -- once he parked the car and the little angel threw herself into his arms -- that I'd see the smile that washed over his features. The look of clocks resetting, priorities stabilizing, peace as long as your loved ones love you.

Some people say the world's going to end tomorrow. But that's just formalizing what we live every day. The truth is we don't know when our cards will get drawn.

Take the hugs when you can get them.

---

Someone won a $50 Barnes & Noble gift card at Surrender, Dorothy: Reviews!