After a busy day, I had planned on getting the kids ready for bed early and snuggling in to read oodles of books.
But then, the weather in Maine in March felt perfect. No mosquitos. On a whim, I lit a fire. We collected the random sticks the dogs insisted on bringing into the yard all winter and had a fire the whole evening.
We didn't read oodles of books snuggled under my fave wool blanket.
We instead listened to fairy tales and stories I memorized all snuggled close together outside fireside.
How lucky am I that either scenario is perfection in it's own way?