Family time rarely announces itself.
It looks like plates left on the table and one more story before anyone moves.
We enjoy it with one eye on what comes next.
The drive home. Tomorrow. The week ahead.
So the evening feels like a pause.
A lovely gap before important life resumes.
But nothing has paused.
The voices around the table are the evening itself.
We spend years asking for more of this.
Then it arrives without a headline and stays until somebody stands.
The important part is already here.
It is sitting with us at the table.
