Just because your hand is free, doesn’t mean you should use it. For instance—the baby in your arms: she is small enough to tuck into an elbow crook; the morning quiet enough to get some work done. But it doesn’t mean your fingers should wander—to the pen, the dish rack, the dog. As I sit here, in the second hour’s palm, I have to remind myself that my niece is not a thing I am carrying; She is a soul, a presence, the comet in slow motion, the current who ceaselessly carrie