- Get up. Just get up.
- The scent of nature getting drowsy.
- It should be easy, but it comes hard. So much to say yet nothing at all.
- I write out half the story before I realize it doesn’t belong there. I move it elsewhere for another time. Or maybe never. Maybe some stories have to be told in person, one-on-one at quiet tables with hushed voices and sparkling eyes.
- Beautiful angles. Ugly gait. Two more weeks.
- The Return of No Nap McGee: This Time It’s (Straight Up Willful, Not at All) Personal
- I casually mention that I can’t look in the mirror because of the state of my hair. I hide the full truth in a laugh because I feel stupid for caring, but when I see his horrified expression, I realize the truth accidentally leaked out anyway.
- The experiment.
- When I finally hold her, there’s a split second of worry. Will I sniff this baby’s head and get The Urge? But I rock and bounce her, talk to her uncomprehending face, and nothing stirs beyond auntie love. Whew.
- I hate it when I hurt my own feelings.
Of telling stories the right away, avoiding the mirror, and sniffing a baby head.