Sunday, September 22, 2013

.Two AM.
And chocolate milk.
Have replaced tequila straight.
I still have the heels.
And the dress.
Just not the time
Nor the energy.
Which considering
Isn't bad.
Just different.
I don't miss it.
Well -
Flying free
Only myself to blame
Or to consider.
It's spaghetti O's
or Not.
You sit in my lap.
Eat the cookie in your hand.
Inhale it.
Chocolate chip.
No nuts.
Your are the first person who I ever said "I love you. " to without the baggage and complications of life.
It's like jumping off the high dive.
You commit in a second but then relinquish the control to Fate or God or something primal.
The rest of your life or my life or both given over to an accident of tequila, bad choices, and  faulty birth control.
But now, sitting here, you look like a conscious, "big girl" choice.
It's not easy but it's a good idea.
Someday in our future.
We are going to miss this.
We'll argue like demi gods throwing lighting bolts at each other.
About what?
I dunno.
I do know it will seem important.
I hope that at that moment someone will remind us of chocolate milk and hugs.
About the day you smiled.
In your blue jumper.
When I looked down at you and by some miracle the corners of your mouth curled up and you laughed.
Astonished at the miracle of it.
I am so mad at you.
I told you NO.
I told you NOT to do it.
But you stood there.
With mud in your eye and a glimpse of your fierce independence you screamed ,"NO!" back at me.
You hurled it at me like a rock or a chunk of something.
That was when my mom smiled and said under her breath, "See, You pay for your raising."
I won't do that to you.
If it were up to me you would be spared all the "character building" moments that my mom wished on me. 
Chocolate milk.
Empty glass.
You've gone to sleep.
Your head rising and falling on the dogs stomach.
I tried to get you to sleep but all that happened was more conversation.
But there now both of you are asleep on the couch.
Good night.

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