Sunday, April 4, 2010

Despite Our Hazardous Floors and These Late-Night Chores, My Love Always Remains

Cranky - 300 Words
Aaron Dethrage

It was 3:00 AM when she awoke, and while I don’t really feel like “cranky” or “testy” fully summarize the complexity of her emotions, they are the best that I’ve got. I guess I can understand why; at her age, most people have generally figured out–unalterably, mind you–what they do or don’t like.

For instance, she and I have two numbers in mind for our nighttime temperature preference, and they typically vary by ten or fifteen digits. So, while the house incubated at an unbearable 76 degrees on this pre-dawn, Alabama-in-July morning, I’m certain she was still chilly.

I stirred in my bed, pretending that I could ignore her and just return to my precious and fleeting sleep, but eventually I just conceded and arose–bleary-eyed and humorously off balance–preparing for the dangerous, late-night trek to the chamber of her incessant calling.

You see–even though she’d been living here for over a year now–her stuff was still far from settled, and in the dark of the night, our carpeted hallway became a minefield for potential stubbed-toes and rolled ankles.

I reached her door miraculously safe and let myself in unannounced, but she knew I would come if she kept at it, so I doubt she was alarmed. My exceedingly cautious journey had re-instilled some vitality into my murky mind, so I greeted her with a playful, “Cranky old gal, aren’t you?”

There, looking back at me with big, wonder-filled eyes that mirrored my own, was a beautiful, eighteen-month-old Chloe. Smiling, I shook my head and sighed as a victorious grin crept across her perfect, chubby cheeks. Side-by-side, we slept with perfectly-synced heartbeats and dreamed ambitious dreams, composing our ideal future together.


Father and Daughter - Paul Simon


***To ease the mind of my mother, I'll go ahead and publicly state that this is definitely fiction, haha. I have had the pleasure of seeing snapshots of a friend's life as she raised her daughter, Chloe, and I thought I'd write a piece of prose from my observations of the joy I see constantly in their relationship.***

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