And I can't leave.
I see some stray toys left on the floor and slowly move to pick them up and put them away... and still. I can't seem to walk out of the bedroom door. She is still talking.
I listen.
There will be a time when I want her to stop talking, that I will think the noise just needs to end and that I will have to leave the room just so I don't go crazy. That day will come, I know it.
Today, I watch her use her hands and facial expressions to tell the story of her life. Some words I can't quite make out, but I know they are important to her. She uses voice intonations like she's reciting an important speech, making sure to pause at the right times for effect. I sit.
These are the moments when everything stops. She is only 24 months old and she has the attitude and will of a 6 year old. It's been 5 minutes... I have 5 more.
When she finishes, I calmly ask, "You've had such an exciting day today... do you think maybe you can get some night night time so that we can have another fun day tomorrow?"
"Yes! Night night!"
One last kiss and tracing of the cross on her forehead, she is tucked in once again and ready to snuggle with baby doll to sleep.
I close the door and realize I have so much to do tonight: Clean up the kitchen, living room, fold laundry, finish making dinner for Paul who gets home late, and more.
And yet, that conversation with Agnes was all worth it.
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