I interrupt the radio silence on this here blog to bring you an update. It is winter in Minnesota. Seven degrees on my morning jog. Seven! And Addison is still running around without a coat. You would never know he was born in Miami.
We are in the midst of painting the kitchen/living room and tiling the bathrooms. There is a toilet (R.I.P.) sitting on my front porch. Everything else in the house, including all the coats/hats/dirty rags that usually sit in the laundry room, are in the front room. Cold and chaotic is how things run around here.
But this: I took Asher to his little preschool yesterday, and watched him gallop through the door on his stick horse. And I thought:
Oh to be four
And gallop next to your best friend
On a stick horse
I told this anecdote to my sister and she said, “That sounds like the beginning of a Billy Collins poem.” So there you go, Billy Collins. Your first stanza written.