DAILY SNACK
We were eating our dessert at the kitchen table, when L’il I woke up.
She’d been having digestive complaints and I helped settle her back down to sleep.
I returned to the table and sat down next to Young C.
He said, “And there he was, eating his ice cream.”
“It’s a poem, Mom.”
Wow. It sure is. “I like your literary sensibility, C.”
“Thanks, Mom. I like your ice cream.”