Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens

There is always some small body in my bed when I decide to turn in for the night.  Usually Naomi, sometimes Joel, hardly ever Hope anymore.

Before I go to sleep, I turn off whatever light they left on and kiss their cheek.

Sometimes they don't even notice.  But sometimes they do: they squirm, they open their bleary, sleepy eyes, and they look at me to see who has disturbed their slumber.

And they smile.

Those mostly-asleep, hardly-conscious half-smiles are a few of my favorite things.