Like everyone else, the last thing I do before going to bed is check on my sleeping children.
I make sure they are covered up against the cold.
I admire the way their eyelashes rest on their lovely, little faces.
I listen to their sleepy breathing.
I plant the day's last kiss.
The Rooster takes after me in that, though she's quite soundly asleep, she'll sometimes respond to my presence by talking.
Last night, as I nuzzled my face in her warm, sweet neck and kissed her blushed cheek, she stirred, sighed, smiled and mumbled,