Feed on

In the Wings

Sometimes the hardest thing to do is to let him try.

To stand back and watch as he snatches the first egg and crushes it in the dicer.

To merely swallow as his snotty sleeve helps scoop the egg pieces into the yellow bowl.

And to remain mute as he figures out which way he’ll turn the egg next.

Everything in me wants to save time.  And destruction.  And twenty paper towels.


by letting him slice his own bread…

and smear his own mayonnaise…

something huge happens to both of us.

We grow.


One Response to “In the Wings”

  1. Sarah says:

    Love it

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