This Is More Important

I think about the dishes soaking in the sink.

I squeeze my arms a little tighter around Sam as we stand outside watching Finley, our dog, chase moths around the yard.

This is more important.

I look at the pile of clean laundry sitting on the chair, waiting to be folded.

I smile as Lucy excitedly tells me about the new song she’s singing in musical theatre class.

This is more important.

I think about how I should be in the kitchen getting lunches ready for school tomorrow.

I listen to Mark reading Stanley a bedtime story, as we all curl up together on the floor in Stanley and Sam’s bedroom.

This is more important.

They’re more important.