Deuces

I kiss her little toes. 1.... 2.....3....4....5.... I count them as I nestle close and plant loving pecks on each. I take the second footsie close, and I kiss them, one by one. 1.... 2.....3....4....5.... Of all the things I remember in my childhood it was my mom holding up my small feet and marveling over how much she loved them... so tiny... so perfect. I will marvel over Sayler's feet, always. I will love holding them close, dirty or clean (moms don't discriminate), and I will smile as I nuzzle and watch her eyes shine as I kiss each toe, 1.... 2.....3....4....5....

I should know Santee, but I don't. For a few months, a decade ago, I worked in Santee. I opened a Mimi's there. I parked my car in the lot there 6 days a week. Those 6 days a week I exited the freeway in the whereabouts, likely listening to Britney Spears en route, clutching the steering wheel of my gold 97' Chevy Cavalier. I should know the name of that freeway exit, but I don't. I have a poor memory for so many things. And the other day as I drove through San Diego county, headed toward Grossmont College I saw a sign that read "Santee". And it was then that I realized I have no clue how to navigate to that Mimi's Cafe if I wanted to... Just for memory's sake. Just to pop in and have an omelette, or a latte, or remind myself what those few months were like. And they were good months. I had great, great colleagues back then and I had youth and no crow's feet and I had several work aprons and they were all cute and I ha

N'no. Wadi Melk Biper is not the name of a Scandinavian pop band. (Wait... I suppose it could be...) Those are 3 of her latest words. My daughter. She likes to bathe in the wadi and also drink the wadi and sometimes she drinks the wadi that she bathes in and I shake my head and say "N'no! Sayler don't drink the bath wadi!" But she continues to splash and slurp the bath wadi while I take stock of my parenting skills. And in addition to the wadi she loves a nice cold sippy cup o' melk.  And the melk is not the 1 percent or 2 percent but totally 100 percent whole melk and it's the expensive Horizon Organic brand even though mommy and daddy can't understand how that melk is like, 6 dollars. But the non-organic has mommy worried about her daughter ingesting steroids. Because then the image on Arnold Schwargen.... (can't be arsed to look it up...)  comes to mind.  My daughter on 'roids. Not cool. And the biper is what goes on to p

Ms. Rine, I have looked for you online. Most of my closest friends know I am quite the online sleuth, capable of tracking down all ghosts of boyfriends and crushes past. But I can't find you. It was many years ago. Many, many years ago in a first grade classroom we met. You were my teacher and I loved you. And it's true I had a deep fondness for just about all of my elementary school teachers, but you did and you do hold a very special place in my heart. I was only 6 years old, but I remember you well. I remember the Snicker bar you gave me once after I helped you erase the chalkboards after school.  You always let me help you erase the chalkboard. And I remember you gave me my very first lunchbox. I had always wanted a lunch box, but they were a bit of a luxury in my house and I hadn't had one before or anytime after that metal Kermit the Frog pail. And it wasn't a brand new lunch box. I remember it was used and I somehow put it together in my