Each morning they wait together for the bus to arrive. It has become their morning ritual. Promptly at 7:00, they go outside and have 15 minutes of one on one time together - just father and son.

I used to go out with them, until little brother arrived last winter. But now, I stay inside with the baby and watch them from a far.

Occasionally, I'll poke my head out the door to hand off a jacket or a forgotten snack for his backpack.

But otherwise, I try not to intrude on this special time they have with one another. They both clearly enjoy it and look forward to it each day.

The weather is not always beautiful, and once the snow starts to fly they won't wait outside as often. Instead, they will be perched at the dining room window and they will run out to greet the bus when it arrives.

Until then, I'll secretly watch them from the window. Sometimes one of them will spot me and give me a quick wave. Father and son together, for such a short time, a cherished ritual that will soon fade away as he starts to wait for the bus by himself in the years to come.

Originally published on Britt's blog The Bomb Sahm