I notice there are dried peas on the chair where he sits in a booster seat with straps. A contraption that allows us to sit and eat with his constant toddler motion contained for a bit.
In the couch cushion are the remnants of the saltine cracker that he crunched up and quietly observed as the bits crumbled and dropped.
A purple crayon is beneath the ottoman that we have moved in order to vacuum under it
hoping that the upright will inhale the tumbleweed cat hairs that bounce along the floor
before he can.
Several different sized disposable diapers are piled up in the loo.
And I notice a tiny tube of toothpaste was left behind. The kind that tastes like a Popsicle. He made a disgusted face when we brushed his teeth with adult flavored toothpaste.
And interspersed with our history tomes and knitting books are books with dinosaurs sporting underwear and mice that want milk with their cookies.
When he goes home with his parents we can hear the clock tick
He hears a bird and puts his hand to his face in the universal sign language gesture and says
'hear it? hear the birdies? hear the sound?’)
When he goes home
we sit in our respective places and search the internet for the meaning of life
or at least a good deal on shoes.
It is quiet.
We have cleaned up in his wake
restoring what passes for order in our home
and we miss him.
 |
| in other news I finished a small painted monogram for Jen based upon the necklace Jay gave to her for her birthday. The bottom one was the final iteration. For now. |
