Finally. The blanket feels welcoming yet unfamiliar, like a visit with an old friend that’s long overdue. However, this friendship finds relaxed interaction much sooner than that. They don’t have to catch up and explore what topics are comfortable enough for conversation. No, they can just be quiet company to one another. The lack of possible judgment makes every muscle in her body seem to exhale in relief.
Sure, her husband who lays beside her could make a judgement. If he were awake. But he looks so blissfully and deeply unawake that she needn’t worry. During the day, she looks to him for affirmation that she’s doing her job well, praise for her motherly selflessness. Yet at night she’s appreciative of his habit of heavy sleeping so that he’s unaware of her snapping impatience, no matter how infrequent, towards the baby’s fussing.
Why is she even thinking about judgment right now? Sometimes, she doesn’t know if she’s the one trotting inside the market fence, being lead in circles, or if she’s the one with the ball cap, saying, This one should go for cheap. She knows that she isn’t always one or the other. Yet the unfounded sense that she should be is constant.