Someday I may tell the babies that I always knew that they stayed up for an hour after bedtime giggling and sharing contraband flashlights, sneaking candy, telling jokes with the words potty, and imagining what it will be like when their real parents (the nice, rich ones) finally come for them. Or maybe I won't. Either way, I am glad they have each other.
Thank you, Jesus, for these babies. And for the ways they feed each other's souls with sustenance (and candy) that they just can't get from their mama.