This picture was taken outside a coin laundry in Antioch on a cold Saturday night.
My son had spilled chocolate milk on his blanket, and we did not have a washer in the apartment then, so there we were with two baskets, a roll of quarters, and snacks from the gas station next door.
I was working double shifts that year. Rent, daycare, tires for the car — it felt like something always needed money. But he remembers the dryers spinning and me letting him press the buttons.
It is not a fancy memory. But it was our life for a while, and I want him to know those ordinary nights mattered too.