1. Last week I went for a walk with the younger of my nephews, J. He is just at the age when the naming of colors is a source of great pride, and as we passed a patch of yard he shot is little arm out and pointed to a smattering of flowers across the grass.
"Oh, look. This flowers is bloo!"
"I see, J. They're beautiful, aren't they?"
He smiled and squatted close to one of them. Hovering. Panting. He extended his hand to touch the tiny petals. J. is a small boy, but goliath to these flowers.
I squatted next to him.
"Careful, J. Don't touch too hard."
He nodded, his stubby fingers touched the petals with as much delicacy as his whole being could muster.
I watched with bait fresh on my breath. This tenderness could take a deadly turn. J. was working hard to preserve the flower's life, but at any second, overwhelmed by its beauty, he could rip the bud apart.
I want to love it. I want to kill it.
It's never a dull moment with this kid.
2. Favorite word this week:
Thursday, April 23, 2009
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2 comments:
least favorite word is "chum" as you wait with bait on your breath?
hang on a minute...
Bait is fine.
Chum is wicked nasty.
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