2012-05-17T00:01:59-07:00May 17th, 2012|Parenthood|

The arrival of intention

I can’t find any spoons for days
and then I see the tip of one
under the couch cushions
they are all there
your buried treasure

it’s new
this penchant for stashing
lining things up
a determination to wear gumboots
and no pants

you look at me with consternation
when I try to suggest a more seasonal outfit
or explain why the baseboard heater
is not a good resting place
for the blender

you don’t have the words yet
but the message is clear

I am the owner of me

but it is not all bluster
I watched you today
as you deliberated
where to place the pots and pans
an assortment on all our chairs
you looked grave
as though you were deciding the fates of millions
and then suddenly
you decided it was just right
and you erupted into a smile
slapping your belly
with bald-faced pride.

Go to Top