Saturday, November 10, 2012

All the way down 38th, Nora pleads for me to drop her off first. I patiently explain that it simply will not work--Spence needs to be at school by 7:30, I need to get to work and the environment needs us to conserve gas. She just wants to show off her big brother to all of her friends at school.

This happens every day.

 I pull up outside of Bancroft, where the other parents line up to drop off their kids. I jump out of the car to open his door and to guide him to the sidewalk. I kiss the top of his head and marvel at who he is becoming.

Every day.

He stops outside the car and presses his hand to his lips to blow kisses. I return them, trying to meet the quickness of his hands and the intense look in his eyes. He starts to climb the steps and pauses at the first landing. He turns quickly and beats at his chest and points at me. I'm never sure where that gesture came from, but I am so thankful for it. He waits until I repeat it.

Every day.

He continues to climb the steps until he is at the top. Nora begs for me to roll down the window, if it is not down already. She yells out, "When we get home, we can play puppies!" He nods and smiles. She continues, "Or something you like to do. Like spies." He hollers down, "Yes! Or something we both like...puppy spies!"

This happens every day.


Anonymous said...

I love it! Heart warming, wonderful, and a reminder that life goes fast as we watch them grow. Too fast!
Lynn H

alex zanda said...

loved the way you captured such beautiful experience in words!