I wake up this morning to little Clarence prying my eyes open with his little fingers saying, “Dream Kees.” 

I open my eyes to the scent of his sweet breath and face inches away from mine drawing out the words slower and clearer, “Dreeeaaaam Keeeeeees”

“Oh, wow, you had a dream about Kees? That’s amazing. I’ll let him know.

“You know the word ‘dream?, Dreeeaaaam?'”I ask amused at how much he comprehends. 

He stares directly into my eyes silently then says calmly, “cookie.”

We go to work than ran tedious errands and come to that part of the day that compares to the eye of the storm. 

-Cherub cheeks, soft pout, wispy lashes, gentle breath- 

And then he opens his eyes. Ever get a chance to witness a child awaken from sleep? It’s like all the answers you’ve sought since the conception of thought is answered in one moment and I’m sure if I find myself conscious in my death bed in the far far future one day, I will be able to hold that moment as if it were infinite, but not today. The angel face screams out “macron!” He wants that favorite sweet chewy marshmallowy French cookie and begins rampaging the house taking his clothes off screaming “different shirt! Different clothes!” The sweetness draining out of him. 

“talk daddy! Talk daddy!” And I appease him with a call. 

He eats sticky rice and seaweed and slowly balances out again. His wit returns. 

I give him iced water and he looks amused. 

“not hot. Water not hot.”

“It’s cold water.”

“Cold water, very cold.” He says delighted at the realization. 

And he amuses himself house after house after house as I make my rounds around town teaching piano until we make our way to the last two driving through PCH at dusk with the sky bleeding warm and cool with stretches of white. 

“Ooooh orange. Oooooh blue. Ooooh airplane.” He marvels at the world and I play along.

“Look Clancy, bird! Oohs boats and trees and ocean.”

“Ochun, dark, moon ” as the scenery changes right before our eyes 

“Magic hour” I finish. 

“Magic” he repeats and closes his eyes. 

     We have two stops left before we get to head home and the day moves to night in seconds the sun sinks into the horizon for safekeeping. Clary wakes up as soon as we get to the next house and he occupies this exchange on the play cook set bringing me plastic fruits and vegetables to eat while I teach piano. He adjusts house to house like a gypsy child, bartering my time for their toys. And he doesn’t mind it. 

    He came home and whispered “bed, warm, cuddle.” We jumped into bed and laughed as giggled with daddy home. We recap the day and color together. He directs me, “draw car! Draw, color, brush teeth, night, dark, trains, mommy, story, daddy,story, mommy, come here, come here, lay down, down, down……

He yawns and says, “mommy. Tired, I’m tired mommy tired? Ahhhhhhh” he yawns again with heavy eyes half mumbling, half sleeping repeating “mummy, color, mummm mm mmmm ommmm.


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