this morning

Picture the scene, Silas strapped to me with his little ski cap on, Asher ambling along, as we walk around the block. Asher running across every "finish line" beside the stop signs and proclaiming, "I win!"; picking weeds for my hair, which he delivers with great pride; climbing strangers' steps to play in their pine needles; standing stock still, my hand on his head, for the occasional car to pass. And he looks at me and says, "I am in first grade one day." I said, "Yes, one day you will ride a school bus and go to first grade." He smiles and says, "Uh-huh. Sure am."