I didn't realize one damn thing.

Because of a weird aberration in our family schedule, I had a few hours alone with Clair this morning.

I read a little to her, and she "read" back to me. We played chase through the house. She watched "Pingu" while I did her hair, and I cracked up every time she cracked up at the mischievous little penguin and his antics.

And she decided that she wanted to do Cary and Dean's dinosaur puzzle, even though she has no idea how to put together a big kid puzzle. She made a huge mess on the floor and got hilariously mad when the mismatched pieces wouldn't fit.

And while I was sitting there enjoying my baby girl immensely, I realized...

Well, you know what? I didn't actually realize anything.

Don't you get sick of feeling like every moment is supposed to be some great epiphany about parenting or magical childhoods or the meaning of life or some such?

Really, I just sat on the floor and enjoyed being with my daughter. That's all.

And it was pretty great. So I thought I'd share.

Happy Friday, y'all.