diplomatics in the living room

Over fajitas at the coffee table, sitting on the sofa, I asked Ruby if she was going to be a well-behaved teenager. She responded, "I don't know. That's in the future."

Playing one of Ruby's DS games, I realized my turn ended rather abruptly; I asked her why it was over so soon. She said if you're bad at it, the quicker it ends.

depressions in the sidewalks

On our way to the playground off of 7th and South Streets, Ruby concluded the puddles on the cobble-stoned pavement were made by melted ice. I said the depressions in the sidewalks gave them their shape. She asked, "Do you mean the sidewalks are sad?" I said, "No, but the pockets in them allow puddles to be formed." She responded that they are depressed "because of winter, probably, or that they can't play."

sentimental schoolyard

At some point, when leaving Ruby to enter school, she gets out of the car and walks by herself across the parking lot (the schoolyard) to go to class. All of a sudden, in my eyes, I am not with her; she seems alone, bringing herself to the door, without me.

I know it's sentimental to think of her, her hand in mind, all the way to the building in our own, joyous stride. But now she is being independent, more than ever, right now, to me.

When she says (so I still feel like she needs me, I hope) "will you come with me?," I must and always say "yes."

it's a good day to

A few days ago, Jim Carroll died. We heard it on the morning radio as we were going to school (2nd grade). Ruby anxiously wondered, "Who was Jim Carroll?". I said he was an author, a singer and songwriter. She asked how old he was when he died. I answered, "60". She replied, "Well, that makes sense."

getting taller

On our way home from getting water-ice ( wildberry for me, chocolate for her) I asked Ruby to stand next to me to see how she is growing up. The top of her head came to the bottom of my chest. She remarked, "Wow, I'm up to your privates."

the stars need to be polished

Today, like most days, Ruby and I see trash which is recycleable on the streets when we go to church or school. If I don't notice something, she does, points to it and brings it to my attention: "Daddy...."

I'm in the habit now of picking up aluminum cans along with plastic and glass bottles on the way back home to put them in our industrial-blue recycle bin. When we came back this hot morning, my total was five. Even though the ocean becomes a soup of plastic, we just feel like it's something we should do.

I said to my wife I still can't believe why people let this happen. Ruby said, "Yeah, because some people are litter-bugs and don't want the Earth to be shiny. The stars need to be polished, the sun has to be cleaned and its strokes (meaning its rays) have to have lip balm on them."

haiku advice (for Linh Dinh)

fuck the streets, the beat
doorways, bums, drunks, hustlers
dig smokin' hot chicks