Tuesday, July 5, 2011
You never quite got the ruckus made of the 4th, choosing instead to celebrate July 5th, or August 4th. March 20th, why not? The way your daughter gives you rocks that she finds in the driveway, brown pebbled things that were probably dirty chunks of pavement once slick with motor oil. You drop them into the only vase you own, the weight of throwing them away full of something you don't want to play with or even think about. Swim class @ 2:10 circled on the calendar, July 5th, and you find yourself promising to always be the mother you are once she finally falls asleep each night, how you stand over her forgetting the sharp no's of the day repeated, the 1, 2, 3...without either of you fully understanding the portent of 3. This is what you celebrate, this day, fireworks for nothing, and how tomorrow you will be better.
Posted by Petunia Face at 9:37 PM