Night Noises

Every night, as I tuck the girls into bed, they always ask the same thing -

"Where are you going to be?"

They are big girls, big enough to (mostly) not be scared of monsters or shadows. Old enough to know that Mom and Dad are near, and will come running should the need arise. But they are still small enough to need the reassurance.

I remember lying in my bed as a child, listening to the clink of glasses and silverware as my mom washed the supper dishes. Hearing her and my dad talking and laughing in low voices, the warm glow of the television lighting the hall and the strains of the Dallas theme song providing the soundtrack to my last wakeful moments. Whatever had happened during the day faded into a warm fuzziness as I fell asleep, safe under watchful eye of Mommy, Daddy, and J.R. Ewing.

"Will you do some laundry?" Julia asks, as I fulfill the last of her list of ridiculous demands (closet light on, hall light on, princess lights strung over the Barbie house on, cup of water, music, books). And, because there is always laundry to do, I oblige.

Later, I stand in her doorway and listen to the clothes tumbling in the dryer.
clink...clink...clink. The snap on a pair of jeans.
shhhh-ick...shhhh-ick...shhhh-ick. The zipper on a jacket.
Dishes being washed, low grown up talk, doors locking and the soft click of a bedside lamp. The quiet nighttime sounds that wrap you in warmth and safety. I imagine my children drifting off to the simple sounds of a busy house, slowly winding down, getting ready for- Sleep.