After an active morning I told my youngest son that he needed to do quiet things for the afternoon. He finished his book and was casting about for something else when a jigsaw puzzle box caught his eye. He went downstairs to the art/project room and sorted the edge pieces out onto a tray. After working for a while I heard my husbands voice down there discussing where a piece might go.
Dinner time came kids were at the table, but my husband? Still with the puzzle. Bed time stories and brushing teeth. I wander downstairs to get a glass of ice water. The puzzle has expanded to three trays of sorted pieces that fill the kitchen table. “Who is doing this puzzle?” I ask. “I’m just helping him out,” he answers. My bedtime comes, I go back down to the kitchen. My husband almost has the edges finished. “You’re helping him out a lot. Are you going to finish it for him?” “I’ll be right up,” he says, “I’m almost done with this bit with the letters on it.”