P: …Hobbes is a tiger, a stuffed tiger, like one of the stuffed animals in your bed, and everyone knows that. Well, everyone knows that but Calvin. Calvin thinks that he’s real, but everyone else, they know that…
Papa takes the twins just around the corner, to read to them. Daddy gets a yogurt from the second fridge. As Daddy sits in the kitchen and mixes the honey through, Papa explains, in a house where everything is within earshot, that he loves Calvin and Hobbes, that he got this book as a gift from an old friend, and that he will read them parts of it, if they would like him to, that this book will be something shared between Papa and them, especially.
Over the next half hour, Daddy hears words drifting around the house, but none of them stick. The words are eclipsed by the laughter. They are tracking at sixty, maybe seventy percent, content-wise, but they are laughing. From the gut. Laughing and loving it. And laughing some more.
It’s a magical world.