Crayon House
We thought the kids were joking.“Can we build a treehouse?” they said one afternoon, barefoot, sticky from popsicles, eyes full of some cartoon-inspired dream.But then they brought out a sketch. Lopsided, crayon-colored, with hearts over the windows.They looked at my husband and said,“Can we do it with you, Daddy?”And something in him cracked, gently. Quietly.I saw it in the way he looked away…
















