these photos were taken seconds from each other, while in the middle of what we call our laundry war. lately, he loves climbing onto my face, resting his head into the cove of my neck, humming, kissing, biting.
we spend a lot of time looking up, talking about all the things there are to talk about. birds, shadows, why cats have fur, the importance of being gentle, the height of a plum tree.
why we don't eat toilet paper. earth, the third planet from the sun.
juice. the shape of crackers.
i often imagine what our conversations will be like when we both grow older, when he's old enough to know that i know only what i know. when he'll correct me for my shortcomings. when he'll look to mathematicians and scientists and philosophers rather than the small and passionate library of my mind.
he's growing rapidly, like a favorite movie that's been fast forwarded and you keep waiting for someone, anyone to hit pause.
"but this is my favorite part," you'll say.
but it is, you know.
this is my favorite part.