Tonight you 'allowed' Dad to play the guitar while I pondered a new tune. It was sweet -- a nice, slow evening; we were all lingering. I was sitting on the couch, surfing websites, the cat was resting her head next to me. You and I had a nice afternoon tea, and then a filling dinner -- your belly was full.
While Dad was playing, I noticed your clothes coming off. Often, you will tell us that you are "too hot" for your shirt or pants, but we usually require you to keep them on in some form. Tonight, however, you were having Dance Class which required complete nudity. You were laughing -- running in circles and, at one point, playing your harmonica. You'd tossed everything else to the side. I thought of video taping the hilarity, but decided against it. You were so happy, so free, I wondered why, on previous nights, I'd felt it was so important to keep your clothes on.
Eventually, we got your upstairs -- you put on your pajamas after we helped you brush your teeth. You tuck yourself in now (and you don't want us to help), and then we sit at your bedside for stories. It's such a cliche, really, that time is speeding by and I can hardly believe you are you, but there is so much truth in this trite statement. I love seeing who you are becoming, even when I get so pissed I have to leave the room to breathe, alone. I love to see how you are changing me.