cape cod folks they have no ills

My sons are all three kneeling in a row on their bedroom floor, sorting out Legos, crayons, rubber balls, action figures and dice that have ended up in a big pile. They are singing a shanty, in harmony yet, the Scientist's voice recently have turned all deep and manly.

They are working together and singing together.

That is EXACTLY what I imagined it would be like! Before I had children, you know, when I had ideals? This. Exactly what I hoped for.

I could add, I told them I would throw out anything still on the floor at suppertime. I could say, and it'd be true, they are singing to protest another playing of Damien Rice. But why should I let those things into this moment? A dream come true is there too. How about just: my dreams came true.