Sunday, June 17, 2007


When we left for our walk, you carefully buckled your Horsie into the stroller seat beside you.

You made me stop four times to tell me that Horsie was falling asleep.

You fell asleep.

You awoke suddenly, and called out my name. I stopped and gently asked what you wanted. You said, "I'm ready to go now," and fell back asleep.

When you were really awake, we went for dog food, cat food and chocolate milk at the 'dog cafe'.

The young women who work there fell for your charms. There were lots of marshmallows in your chocolate milk.

You told me that Horsie was thirsty.

I said he could have some water.

You said that Horsie prefers chocolate milk.

I told you that chocolate milk would give Horsie a stomach ache.

You said it would be OK, because Horsie would only have a couple of sips.

I asked you if you planned to drink the rest.

Horsie had to settle for water.

Did I mention that the young women who worked at the store fell for your charms?

You walked all the way home, proudly walking the dog all by yourself.

It took us forty minutes to cover the fifteen minute walk home.

We had a big fight at the busiest intersection because I made you give me the leash and hold onto my hand.

Now, it is after 10:00 and you are still awake.

You just came downstairs. I opened my mouth to scold you but you said, "Mama, I can see the moon out my window. Come see."

We looked at the moon, I kissed you goodnight (yet again) and I tucked you in bed.

You look like me.

You drive me to distraction.

And I love you to distraction.


Jacqueline said...

every now and then as i turn over in bed my eyes catch that big glowing moon positioned perfectly in the top left window. at 43 years old it's still magic.

thanks for the walk. sweet dreams.

Anonymous said...

This entry brought tears to my eyes. Goodnight Moon doesn't measure up to your writing, although I love that one too.

B in T

Kim said...

I have a seven year old like that...he talks non-stop, some days to the point where I am sure my sanity is in question...and I'd throw myself in front of a train for him...twice.

Anonymous said...

What a fabulously touching piece of writing.