I’m stirring the risotto. Stir, stir, add stock, stir.
Max appears in the doorway.
“Mom, can you teach me how to play the guitar?”
“I’ve been meaning to learn myself, buddy. Maybe we can learn together.”
“Will GG teach us?”
He strums for a while, singing.
Stir, stir, add stock, stir.
“Mom, I got so many songs in my head for when I grow up and go on American Idol that I just can’t decide which one. Like Baby, Don’t Let me Go and Snow Is Falling. Just so many. So, so many…”
Stir, stir, clutch my heart, stir…
middle child, NaBloPoMo, Sarah Writes