Late wake up this morning -- barely moving in bed, your hands by your face, peaceful.
Easy dressing (you chose the outfit last night, as you like to do); you have a good sense of style.
Lunch packed -- cereal bar for the road.
Now at school, a sweet goodbye. Hugs and I love yous all around.
Picking you up, I spy through the window in the arms of your favorite teacher; you are so happy!
You choose a flower for my hair, it is yellow.
We drive, drive, drive for hair trims and a visit to "your section" at the bookstore.
You laugh uncontrollably, almost falling off of your stool, while reading a book about a cat.
Other people are tickled by your delight (we buy the book).
While walking around the bookstore with the basket you insist carrying, you say, "I am strong. Look at my muscles. I am getting bigger every day!" I hope you always feel this confident.
Dinner at the fish house. Your boots keep slipping off and you want to lay down for a nap.
While driving home (late), you fall asleep so easily.
Finally home, I look at your profile--softly lit by the car's interior glow--and notice how perfect your nose, lips are.
You run in circles in your room making up stories about guy and cat and dolls.
We wind down with "Goodnight Moon" and kisses. We tell our other stories and you are sad when we miss one.
Finally in bed, you call down, "goodnight dad!" as you do every night.
Your door is ajar -- open far enough to assure you of our presence, but not so far the cat will sneak in -- her eyes are too loud for the night.