his hands.

his hands.

Just call us easy. You know, like a Sunday morning.

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I love quiet Sunday mornings. The ones when Hank and I get up before the boys and share the quiet over coffee. The ones when we leave the back door open and pull up an Adirondack or two and listen for their not-so-quiet footstomps coming down the stairs, searching for breakfast. And I especially love the ones when I get to watch Hank get one-on-one time with them, in this case, our youngest.

And today I loved that even though I thought I was taking pictures of that special playtime between them, I saw something more.

His hands.

These hands that have fantastically molded and shaped our home, our family…our love.

I’ve never felt safer than when I’m in them. So I totally get how our little ones love being right there in them.

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