Fresh jammies speckled with printed white puppies. Red boots too clean for any kid’s preference. His soft curls swirling his head could only stay clean but so long. Like a freshly bathed dog, the desire for mud to be reintroduced to his pores was instant. Cody found the puddle, the slick brown mud, and I…
It was Sunday morning, our final day in San Francisco. The white fog was comfy on the hills beyond the condo’s windows. Sutro Tower was nowhere in sight. A sweet redheaded pal lay beside me with patterned breaths.
“Hey Momma!” Cody says. “Good morning happy guy! How are you?” I respond. “Good.” Cody replies.
Pink knit hats with soft bear ears. Small bundled faces staring back at me, their cheeks flush with the winter wind. They sat warmed by the fire.
The line is set. The distance between is precise. The inevitable push is lurking. Click, click, click, click, the porcelain rectangle hits the next, and the next, and the next. All the preparation has paid off. The line moved in tandem with my expectations. Click, click, click, one fell after the other as if passing…