Elijah, my son, starts the day running outside

Anticipating adventure,

Runs back in, wearing a black and gray cap,

“Momma, the neighbor brought something over for you!”

Impish grin warming his face,

Oh and that sparkle in his eye

The light piercing me to stare,

“Well what is it?” Partly confused, partly unbelieving coz I know him.

Removes his cap like a gentleman

a vibrant purple Morning Glory

resting at the bottom with an almost pulse.

My romantic son,

See and Momma’s proud,

Heart swelling,

Can’t stop me from smiling

Hugging him tight because I know he must never lose himself.

And driving off to destiny,

Lunch time brings over to our table, a little girl, maybe a year older than him,

She stands close watching without words,

He notices and begins to act funny, literally funny,

Whoopie Cushion in hand and she inches closer,

I stand away and watch my four year old Chivalrous soul making her laugh,

As he pushes wind in her hair.

Her making him laugh,

As she squeals in delight at it’s harmless silliness.

And the girls green gel filled tube drops,

Straight from a romance comedy,

My boy and little girl bend down to pick it up,

Just as if it were scripted in the 90’s,

Bump heads and look at one another,

Of course what would follow,

But laughter, banter, and innocent assumptions of meeting tomorrow,

Though in truth they will leave with no ties,

Followed with a visit to a familiar friend,

Real talk exchanging between what only four year olds can talk about,

Playing house and wanting to grow up

Which means we must also be doing something right,

Though our flaws are starkly revealing with their imitations,

The hug good bye with no need to talk of when to meet again because it will happen,

The drive home before we must part because I have formed into a family with split times.

“Momma when will I be an adult?”
“Son, my Sun, you wanna be grown? Why?”

“So I can be stronger than my Appa (Dad)”

I find his reasons and ambition amusing.

“And do you think Momma is strong too?”
“No Momma.”
“But I am very strong.”
“But not stronger than a bee, Momma. Right? Not stronger than a bee?”
“You are so sharp my Sunshine!”

And children, the closer to infancy, have it all figured out,

Open flower giving,

Open mouth laughter forming from the heart,

Open honesty, even in thought.

Open for me to see and learn what I once knew

Once again, but this time not to forget so I can also remind Elijah

Once upon a time when a boy reaches his ambitions.

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