Saturday, February 12, 2011

clean slate

It's been one of those days. I'm ready to turn the page.

I'm drying Girl-two's hair. She's crying. I'm thankful for the white noise. Something louder than her, finally.

She's upset about the snarls. About hair blowing in her eyes. About being too cold. I don't respond. My sympathy already went to bed.

We're done.

You must be too tired for books? I'm accusatory. This doesn't help.

It will have to be a short one. The words are sharp in my mouth and I don't swallow them. I should.

I try.

We read. She gets her sip of milk and tucks into bed. I tell myself that tomorrow is new. A clean slate.

John kisses her forehead.

Her request is soft. I want Mama to say "Goodnight, Moon."

What is tomorrow, to her?  Every moment is a clean slate. How does she know this? She teaches me.

New starts now.