I know sometimes you wish those gnats away, those sticky sisters…that “don’t do that!” dad.
I know you dream about a life where it was only just the two of us, we lived there once and we remember, don’t we?
Let’s look at it from then, the quiet undemanding time. The Fancy Friday Nights. The snuggled up and no place to go on a snowy morning.
No one whined at me but you.
No one yelled at you but me.
But really, what would we do without them? Think about how tethered you would be–to me.
You won’t be haunted by my misery. I get spread out this way, you don’t like clumps, you never did.
And I know…you want to know my secrets. To live under my skin. To see things from behind my eyes. I’m honored by your interest, but I’m not that interesting, really.
Let me layer you with stories, and love you from a distant place where babies cry.
Trust that in my heart it’s always you and me. We are watching the parade.
And then later, when my mind was all but lost, you made me lemonade.