Sometimes we look like a normal family. We've got a house by the sea, a little girl who never sleeps, and a motorcycle that only starts when it feels like it. Sand gets everywhere even into our thoughts. Breakfast always drags on and usually starts with someone saying, let's not do anything today, knowing that we probably will anyway. People say we should settle down, make plans, think about the future, but we kind of like the present. Even when it makes no sense at all, all we need is for the bike to start, the kid to laugh, and no one to remind us that it's time to finally grow up. Maybe we're not the perfect family, but we love each other in our messy, noisy, real way. And honestly, that already feels like a small miracle.