Saturday, September 26, 2009

In the morning

In the morning, a noise awakens me. It is Naughtyman. He is getting into bed with me. I wrap my arms around him. He feels thin, insubstantial, a bundle of wires.

I love you, Naughtyman, I say, and he moves in a little closer, till we are like one melded lump of dad and son.

Dad, you're always so warm. Because you stay in bed for sooooo long. Naughtyman is early to bed, early to rise.

I'm English, I say. We have to be warm because of the cold winters.

He is squirming to get free. I don't want to let him go but there is too much besides me in his life to keep him here.


Anonymous Arleen said...


September 27, 2009 at 5:57 AM  
Anonymous Looney said...

Love it. I so know that feeling. My 12 year old was always the squirmy one, quick hugs and little pecks. My 9 year old, OTOH, tends to lean up and melt into me when he's doing his daily reading for school, or watching TV, or playing the XBox together. I think those moments don't last all that long. I try my hardest to slow down time for a little while, and I could almost swear it works :-)

October 1, 2009 at 7:24 PM  

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