Sunday evening I put magic into the very mundane task of folding laundry by listening to the song, A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square. It's a beautiful song, hauntingly nostalgic, and I listened to it on repeat. All of a sudden Timothy poked his head around the laundry room door.
"What are you listening to?" he asked.
So I told him the name of the song and explained how it was popular during WWII because it evoked feelings of separation and longing for a happier time.
"Would you like to dance?" I asked hopefully.
Poof! He disappeared. But then I saw him creep back and hesitantly stand otuside the door.
"Come on. Two seconds. Come dance with your mom."
So he came in, and as the nightgale sang in Berkeley Square we danced in the laundry room. Just two turns and then ... Poof! ... he disappeared once again.
But those three seconds were magical.
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