after midnight

I watched her clapping with a friend tonight, watched her realize its significance, this new means of communication. And now, in the wee silent hours of the morning, each of us on our second wind, she starts a conversation. She has just finished exploring the ins and outs of my teeth and gums and nostrils with her fingers and sits up to watch me, elation on her face. She claps, smiles, looks up at me and waits for me to mimic her, which inevitably results in a full grin.

We exchange claps in the dim light, the soft rhythmic pat of two little hands, two big hands, and four sandwiched together join the sounds of the rain whipping around in the darkness outside. Simple and timeless, mama and baby, together in the quiet sharing their day.