You slept on the couch next to me, with mama's hand on your foot the whole time. The kettle clicked off and I didn't get up to make the tea because I didn't want to break the spell. The cat watched you for a while and then left the room as though she'd seen enough wonder for one day.
I sat there counting the seconds between each breath. Forty-three minutes — I checked when you woke. You stretched the way you'd stretch for years to come, and then you cried. I made the tea after.