When I was little, my parent's bed was the safest place I knew. If I was sick, or tired or wanted to veg out, I'd snuggle into their blankets and pillows, and feel instantly relaxed. Thinking about it now transports me right back to being seven years old again.
I suspect it's the same for Tory because our bed is her favorite place to hang out, too. Last week as I hurried around the master bedroom readying our bags for the cabin, Tory laid in our bed watching a cartoon. I couldn't help myself; I stopped what I was doing, grabbed my camera and snapped a picture of Tory curled up with her favorite stuffed toy.
This, to me, is the picture of an idyllic childhood: innocent; safe; loved.
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