I had planned on writing this only on the the days that I had her. But I feel that writing whenever I have occasion would probably paint a more accurate portrayal of her growing up.

I didn't have the Bean last night, but I got to see her this morning. It's picture day and I had to drop off the form for her mother. I got to my sisters (where the Bean gets on the bus) right before them. My daughter got out of the car wearing a dress that her mother had made for her, the night before, out of a material that the Bean had picked out. It was some blue material with flowers made into a dress/jumper with a white t-shirt. While I'm not overly picky about clothing or style, this was far from what I had in mind for picture day. I kept my mouth shut and told the Bean how pretty she looked, well - I started too. Her hair was soaking wet and it was 50some degrees out. So I got her into the house and had the sister blow dry her hair and attempt to get it looking nice for pictures.

Inside she stood stoicly as the Sister did her hair. I was busy writing a check for pictures that I hadn't planned on getting since the ex-wife conveniently forgot her checkbook. No problem, as long as the Bean gets to be included in the picture day. Nothing worse then sitting in class by yourself while everyone else is out looking pretty getting their picture taken.

I didn't notice until we got out to the bus stop that her jacket was a very thin one, probably not enough to stave off the cold. But the bus came shortly after and I got my kiss blown to me by the Bean. She won't notice - but I will, for next time.

We went back inside and the Sister and I talked while I warmed up with some hot apple cider. I think that'll be just the thing to do tonight with the Bean. Some cider and maybe a game of Go Fish.


I wrote this last winter - thought of it this morning with the cold nipping at my hands.


Angel Play

Her little boots crunched the snow.
A laugh, mirth mixed with crystal air rang true.
That flaming red hair streaming behind her in the shadowed white.

'Daddy, push me! Push me!'
Pause for a second and picture with me.
The scene of delight, today, tomorrow, and forever.

White heaven had fallen for a day and night
Its carpet deftly reaching each nook and cranny
the fields where soccer cries rang, bleached and swept clean.

Now the banks filled normally by moms in SUV's
run amuck with tracks of small creatures -
throwing themselves into bliss with unapologetic glee.

'Daddy, push me! Push me!'
The sled pulsing under her, the bouncing craft
throwing her... it's like a playground for angels.