“I got a luv-a-ly buncha coconuts…”
My toddler is awake, serenading the morning in her unique fashion. As always, I clean the coffee from my nostrils – it gets in there when you burst out laughing in the silence with a mouthful of the stuff. I also wipe a few splodges of coffee from the computer screen. I push back from the computer, giggling softly; sure that this is the only way to start a day. I open her bedroom door as the finale is in full swing, “THERE STANDS ME WIFE! THE IDOL OF ME LIFE! Singing roll-a-boll-a-ball a penny a pitch!
” We throw open the old fashioned windows and let rip together, “Singing roll-a-boll-a-ball a penny a PITCH
!!” Arms outstretched, we hold the final note – which, I must admit, was pitch perfect. An elderly couple passing by on the street applauds us. That’s a first; we must be getting good.
John looks at us from the doorway, his eyes puffy and straining, his naked body covered in sleep dents. He shakes his head, almost dribbling, “Oh Lord, what have I done?” and makes his way with a sleepy smirk to the bathroom.
I pull out of the fridge my latest fad – macrobiotic breakfast! Ooh la la! Sierra helps me set the coffee table Japanese style, which really suits our rice, cold steamed fish and miso soup combo. We all sit around the table, which looks convincingly like a scene from a Geisha house – what, with our throw pillows for seating and chopsticks and all. John looks at the fish, looks at me, looks at the fish, stands and promptly fixes himself some corn flakes exclaiming, “All I ask is one average day. Just one normal, just-like-others day from start to finish.” He sighs. I look at Sierra, she knows what we have to do. As we charge him hollering, “Death to the dictator!” with our pillows he screams (quite a feminine scream, I may add). He falls to the floor as we tumble on him, arms tangled in legs.
“God, I hate you!” he whispers, his face soft with adoration.
“Oh, babe, I hate you too.”
We watch him walk to the car, my sweet young girl and I. Both feeling the same way, something along the lines of, “Damn work!” and yell out, “Miss you already, daddy!”
We mean it more than he will ever know.
My life is fire. I breathe in the heat; I breathe the heat out. A simple life, but love is far from simple. Every moment is my passion, every song, every laugh – especially those laughs that leave your cheeks sore for an hour.