Daisy rolls our clothing into half of the suitcase. Her hands slide into the pockets of her pastel green dress. “Reid, now we have to pack the kids’ stuff for our trip,” she says. 

            “Right,” I say. “But, we did well with our stuff. Now, we have more time for them.” 

            With a smile, Daisy suggests each of us takes one child. That way, both children get packed, and we only need to worry about one of them.

            I agree, “I’ll take Sawyer. We pack them for school every day. We got this.”

            Daisy starts toward the back of the house; where Pricilla plays in her room. And, I go in the opposite direction. Sawyer is in front of the television. 

            No sooner do Sawyer and I enter his room than Daisy calls from down the hall. “Oh, Reid, grab Sawyer’s soccer jersey. That’ll be great for walking around in.”

            “Copy that,” I reply. Sawyer follows his instructions, and the jersey lands on his bed. I describe my plan to Sawyer. Daisy announces another idea during my briefing.

            My eyes narrow at Sawyer’s door with a sideways grin to him. “Alright, son, you heard your mother,” I say. Sawyer laughs at my grin and finds both the bathing suites. They join the jersey on the bed.

            Five pairs of shorts emerge from Sawyer’s dark wooden dresser. I get them into a row opposite the bathing suites.

            Sawyer only gets to pick one pair of shorts before Daisy’s next suggestion. He cuts his eyes to mine with raised eyebrows. I produce a single nod with closed eyes. 

            With Sawyer in the closet, I drop my chin to my chest. I contemplate an instruction to Daisy, but Sawyer returns with his shirt. He asks if he can return to his shorts. I say, “That’s an excellent idea.”

            Before he turns around, Daisy summons us back to our bedroom. Sawyer points out our lack of shorts. I say, “Maybe, Mommy is done with Pricilla, and they will come help us.”

            We tote our couple items down the yellow hallway into Daisy and I’s bedroom. Pricilla tries to put her swimsuits into the suitcase, but Daisy refolds every item.

            Daisy’s head sags over the suitcase with deep sighs. She says, “I see you were as successful as I was.”

            “Yeah,” I say. “We had a hard time making decisions.” Sawyer clears his throat, but I nudge his shin. He quickly closes his mouth.

            Sawyer drops his clothes next to the suitcase. “Here, Mom,” he says, “let me help.” He rolls his clothes like packing for Scouts.

            Daisy stares at the suitcase before a five-minute inhale. Her head moves side to side during the whole exhale. She says, “There’s still so much to get.”

            I step forward and put my hands on Pricilla’s shoulders. “Let me go with Pricilla,” I suggest. “You go with Sawyer. Let’s see what happens.”

            Daisy flails a hand into the air, saying: “We can try it.” She herds Sawyer past Pricilla and me. I hear Daisy tell Sawyer which shorts he will take on the trip. 

            Pricilla and I stroll into her deep pink room. The room surprises me every time. It’s not dark, but it definitely lacks the usual brightness of pink. Pricilla tells me about her bathing suits.

            After several questions, I learn Daisy already has Pricilla’s bathing suits. Before I can change the topic, Daisy asks about Pricilla’s shirts. Daisy wants the gray one about being a little sister.

            Pricilla bounds toward her drawer. She turns to me with shirt in hand. Every reason for and against the shirt rushes from her. I take the time to find a couple shorts and some dresses.

            Daisy calls from down the hall. She requests another shirt, and Pricilla instantly has it in hand. The gray one goes back into the drawer. I sneak the gray shirt from the drawer during the reasons for the new shirt. 

            I coax the new shirt from Pricilla, and she turns to the shorts on her bed. We only pick one item, before Daisy summons us back to our bedroom. I listen to Pricilla’s commentary on the dresses all the way to the master bedroom.

            In our bedroom, Daisy looms behind Sawyer. He cautiously folds two pairs of shorts into the suitcase. With a quick scurry, Sawyer is at my side. Daisy swoops between Pricilla and her shirts. “I see y’all brought a pair of shorts too,” Daisy says.

            I run my hand through my hair. “Okay, kids,” I announce. “Who wants a cookie?”

            Daisy chews her bottom lip as I hold up a hand to her. Both children heartily want a cookie. I say, “Alright, then, it’s time for a scavenger hunt. Whichever one of you finds every item on Momma’s list – gets a cookie.”

            Sawyer and Pricilla celebrate the possibility. Daisy narrows her eyes at me. I advise Daisy to call out what she wants; Pricilla will stay here and help Mommy with the suitcase. Sawyer follows my lead into the hallway. I ask over my shoulder, “What else does Sawyer need?”

            Daisy answers with some shirt, and Sawyer finds it quickly enough. He and I take the shirt back to the suitcase, and I usher Pricilla to her room.

            Daisy doesn’t hesitate this time with her instruction. Pricilla and I bring the skirt back to Daisy. Sawyer follows me to his room before Pricilla even reaches the suitcase.

            Back and forth I go. Each kid rushes into and out of their room. They know exactly where each item is. Sawyer asks about his closeness to the finish line. Pricilla only changes her mind a half dozen times about her choice of cookie. We only have one kind of cookie, but I leave that detail out.

            Pricilla brings an unrequested skirt into the bedroom with me behind her. Daisy hugs Sawyer at the suitcase. She says, “That ought to do it,” after putting the skirt in the suitcase.

            “Nice job, kids,” I say. “Now, did somebody say something about a cookie?”

            They rush to the kitchen, and I take a step to follow. Daisy wraps me in a hug from behind. “Thank you,” she says. I give her a wink before marching after the children. The zipper around the suitcase echoes down the hall.