"Daddy wants the Phillips-head screwdriver, mommy," Archer said.
I went through the tool cabinet and retrieved what I figured to be a screwdriver and handed it over.
"Here you go,"
"Thank you, Mommy."
Ten seconds later Archer reemmerged. "This isn't the Phillips-head, Mommy. Daddy needs a different one."
"Oh.
Okay." I finally found what ended up being the correct screwdriver and
went back to tending to Fable, who was in one of her YOU WILL NOT CAN
NOT PUT ME DOWN moods, which, fine, at least she's cute.
Five
minutes later, I went to check on the boys. Archer had gone in the
bedroom to "help Hal" put together his bed and I could just make out
their voices, dancing down the hallway and into the living room.
I knocked on the door.
"Come in," Archer said. "Daddy and I are making a bed! See?"
Archer
was clutching an empty plastic bag, arranging a dozen or so little
screws for Hal, counting and arranging them neatly in two little piles.
And then I thought, holy shit. This is one of those moments Archer
is going to totally remember and Hal will never forget- the afternoon
they first made something together, built something together and they
will both go through their lives better men because they had this day
with the one-thousand piece bed-set and all the screws and everything all over the floor and oh so sweet to see them bond holygodican'tevendealit'ssosweetandcute!
I got misty.
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