I helped William Paul eat today
one bite for him
one bite for me.
His bite,
a combination of
strained spinach
baby oatmeal
and mashed apricots,
drooped onto his cheeks
in a slowly crawling stream
then sloshed over
his chin
his shirt
his bib
his pants
the highchair
the dog's fur
the cat's paw
the floor
and was finally carried off with cheers (it's absolutely true)
shouted by
a small army of ants.
They were, I suppose, getting used to waiting under his chair.
My bite
went neatly into my mouth
just like bites are supposed to do...
at least until
I glanced over at his grin
still covered in green, brown, and orange smush
glumping down
his chin
his shirt
his bib
his pants
the highchair
the dog's fur
the cat's paw
and the floor.
Then my laugh
burst out
along with a disgusting amount of various foods
and
the ants
cheering even more loudly (I swear)
were happy
once again.
living...loving...writing
