Kneeling in casserole dish
I shall eat him now.
Owen led me a merry chase last night. He has learned to fight sleep with all his heart and mind and strong little body and he is, like I say, a drunk on too much coffee when he's like this.
I gave him a bath, which he always loves, and then sat him up on his changing table and shot a few seconds of him doing his imitation of a laser beam fight in outer space. He was not giving up any of his cuteness. He was too determined to keep the party going and when I say "party" I mean proving that Grandmother will do anything for him that he wants. Anything.
Yogurt? Pineapple? Read a book? Play ball? Chase him around the house?
Sure. Whatever.
Luckily for me, Jason's surgery did not last very long. He and Lily came home with a very small bottle of about six bone chips the doctor had removed from Jason's foot. Jason settled on the couch with his foot up and Lily went to get him a pain pill.
"You want juice, milk, or water?" she asked him.
"Beer," he said.
"You can't do that," she said.
"Oh, give the boy a beer," I told her. Yes. I am a nurse.
She sighed in resignation and got a beer out of the refrigerator and a pill out of the bottle.
"Your daddy's going to get effed-up," she told Owen.
I giggled and kissed them all and came home.
And now I have made a haiku out of the evening and if you want to read more haikus or if you want to make one of your own, join this little party (and when I say "party" I mean scraping all the cake away from the frosting and savoring the sweetness in your mouth) at Recuerda mi Corazon with our dear Rebecca.
