Balance:

The little man just wandered in with a plastic bit and a clear-coated wire twisted round eachother into an interesting little sculpture. "I made it for you," he says, and I grin at him and examine it. Loops, spirals, interconnectedness, made of stuff that would've been thrown out with the box they came in except he looked at it and saw something to play with. Yes. "I like this one, babe. Good show."

He drifts deeper into the room, where Mark is snoring contentedly underneath the blankets. "If you wake Mark up, tell him there's coffee, will you, love?"

"Hokay." Springs squeak as he clambers up to sit on my pillow and poke Mark's nose (literally all we can see of him).

I turn back to the computer screen and listen:
Mrrphuh?
I made this for you.
mmOh. Cool. Thank you.
And there's coffee.
Oh good. Thank you for telling me, Daemon.
You're welcome.
~noise of good-morning hugs turning briefly into ticklefights and wrestling~
Here.
Will you put that on the table for me?
Okay.

And off the boyo trots.
Mark burrows back under cover and goes back to snoring.

And I'm reminded how, even though you can't control other folks, that doesn't automatically mean they'll be jerks. Sometimes, they'll surprise you with coolness from trash.