Little Man

Every Morning

Every morning with the sun
He comes to our room
Sometimes with a stuffie or two
Sometimes just him
His sleepy body climbs in alongside daddy and me.
His toes reach farther down my calf than I remember.
His sweaty sleepy head rests on my pillow. I wonder if the toes reach too far, if the sweat clings too much. His baby years behind him, adolescence evaporating, and a teenager soon to be. But for now, he’s my little boy. Snugged up next to me. Waking up each day in the very same way. Wrapped with love and warmth and kisses and biteys. Until the alarm tells us all we cannot ignore the world any longer.

It’s time to begin.