2011-12-11T22:47:00-08:00December 11th, 2011|Musings on life, Parenthood|

The Amy Winehouse incident

It was a moment of sincere unknowingness
like a deer eating grass
I was singing
Amy Winehouse
over and over

they tried to make me go to rehab
but I said no, no, no

my voice spindly
a monotone absentmindness
and as I whisk pureed kale into the pancake mix
a clandestine effort to get my toddler
to eat more greens
I suddenly see the incongruous picture
of a square mom
half-dancing in her tiny kitchen
singing about rehab

I look over at my son
who has stopped inspecting the baseboard heater
to look at me
for who knows how long

he is smiling
with such encouragement
I could weep.

They say you will love your children
despite the matter of being kept up at night
to feed someone who returns the favour
by pooing on your hand
and refusing to eat your food

but there is also this
a little boy who adores me
despite my moment of brazen suburban dorkiness

who believes with colossal pride and love
that he just witnessed
the best performance
there’s ever been.

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