Reminded, Again
I'm going to put your dolls away tonight. I'm going to put your dress up clothes away, too. I'll pick up your puzzle pieces from the unfinished puzzle. I'll grab a glob of Playdough and stick it to all the tiny bits you left on the floor. I'll wash off your paint brushes. I'll stack your blocks. I'll find your shoes and (Lord willing) match your socks. I'll check your grammar and print your papers. I'll scrape the mud out of your cleats and set your uniform out. I'll tape Bible verses to your mirror. I'll write notes in your lunch. I'll bite my lip and rub the back of my neck when that one song plays because it reminds me of when you were tiny. And I'll squeeze your hand in the checkout line when the woman in front of us fumbles with her phone for the eleventh time because her son was going to call at 5:30, and it's 5:37 and she's worried. Clearly the store has no reception. She looked at us, the lady in th...