Coming home

Sometimes, when I come home from work and the timing is just right, when the sound of my key searching for the lock makes enough of a noise, through our front door I will see Emma, our dog, rise from her nap and come bounding my way, the entire back half of her body wagging in excitement. And then, not far behind will be Lisa with arms outstretched, a wide smile breaking across her face. In that half-second before the door opens, I have found myself thinking, if I have this, I have everything.