Yo tengo hambre
He’s been working on his Spanish
a little bit.
I go into lecture mode
You know, you are most likely not hungry, you’re probably just sleepy. Often late at night we think we’re hungry but we really just need some zeds.
He responds
counterpoint, Papa
maybe I’m actually hungry
I smile, sigh, and give way, and we wander over to Tomibun.
It’s a decent replica of a real-life Japanese convenience store, Vietnam-style. Every time I cross the threshold it’s enough to take me back, an array of clear plastic-wrapped vegetables and neatly chopped fruit on the left, smattering of onigiri to the right, neatly labeled in both Vietnamese and Japanese.
We land on a couple, check out, and make our way back to the bike. He munches on the way, and has already finished his rice ball by the time we arrive, depositing the wrapper in the trash.
maybe he was actually hungry
I glance up, surprised to see couple of stars peeking through the cloud cover above.
These are cloudy days.
I am emboldened, and put my faith in venturing home without a rain slick.
He hops on behind me and we set in motion, beginning the 25 minute trek home.
We meander, dart, traipse.
You doing OK?
I ask
Yeah
I’m OK
If you drop off the bike because you’re falling asleep, let me know, OK?
Silence
I don’t think my joke landed
But at least he didn’t.
Instead, in lieu of laughter, he tucks his chin up against my shoulder blade. It’s a bit uncomfortable.
But the rest of him leans, nestles,
snuggles
in,
deeply.
Takes his comfort in the warmth of my back and the strength of my spine.
And, in response,
I straighten my back as if to say
I am here
Which is probably all he’s looking for
in this moment.
As we make our way through these nippy late-winter streets, dancing in rhythm with the rest of the bikes
I consider what might truly happen, were he to doze off and fall backwards from his perch.
It’s a natural parenting impulse
we envision worst-case scenarios, it’s one of the hard-wired programs that arrives, seemingly immediately upon childbirth (or even before).
I shudder and jolt back to reality
And remember that we’ve been through this rodeo before.
Somehow I know he’ll be okay.
He wiggles his nose deeper into the back of my wool jacket, wraps his hand around my waist, and in so doing
helps us find our way home.
That was heartwarming. I liked your post.
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You describe the scene so well I can imagine glimpses of the food, others riding bikes and the boy resting against you.
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Lovely, but just made me miss your gang all the more. Hugs.
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“Takes his comfort in the warmth of my back and the strength of my spine.” Security, love, knowing you’re ‘always’ there for him. Your slice shares so much about parenting. Enjoy your time together.
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Gosh, your writing is so good and rich and full of life and love. This is beautiful. The last line is one of my favorites. It was great to meet you and Juliette on the Slicer meetup yesterday.
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Likewise! Sorry we couldn’t stick around but those third graders expected us to like, teach them and stuff. 😉
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