Some things are good.
Other things are great.
Getting to come home from a wonderful morning of teaching,
only to find my sister and daughter playing dress-up together,
my little girl decked out in gold chains and over-sized purple shades,
feels great.
“Sorry, but you can’t dress her up as well as I can,” my baby sister said to me. “That’s what aunts are for.”
So, so great.
Getting to spend that evening with my sister,
out,
(Wait. Did you catch that? I said o.u.t. I was out. On a Thursday night. Just making sure.)
was great.
Our shared tartine with creamy ricotta cheese, mission figs and fresh honey?
Beyond.
And our outing at the theatre was suberb.
What a great night.
A Friday spent lounging around with my daughter (who just so happened to sleep past 9am) is more than great.
It is perfection.
And what feels better than dining al fresco with the two loves of my life, before walking down the street to get ice cream, my daughter toddling down the road between us, holding each of our fingers in her tiny hands?
Not much, I say.
Except for lighting the Shabbat candles with my daughter in my arms, that is. That is so great.
Saying the Shehecheyanu, as her eyes dance across the flames
and her hands clap in rhythm with the melody
feels so great.
It is wonderful.
It is everything.
And then chasing her around after her bath,
as she squeals with completely uninhibited, unfiltered delight,
her little body gliding around so skillfully
as the touch of her skin makes my soul ache with joy.
And I squeal along with her.
So freakin’ fun. And funny. And great.
And now, as she dreams peacefully in her crib,
I have time to rest and recharge,
with an exciting new book and a big ol’ cup of frozen yogurt.
With white chocolate chips.
And coconut.
Ok. And Nerds.
Because this, my friends,
this
is greatness.

And this, my friends, is greatness.