little eyes.

I was sitting at the dinner table.

Completely zoned out.

Staring into space.

London interrupted my intergalactic moment.

“Why did you do that thing with your lip, Mommy?”

“What thing?” I asked.

I had no idea what I had been doing.

“This thing – ”

And she demonstrated.

And then she explained,

“That’s the thing you do with your lip when you’re angry.”

Little eyes.

Always watching.