Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

October 22, 2019, 02:39:10 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Rod  (Read 28 times)
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« on: October 03, 2019, 04:54:35 PM »

   His little fingers grasp every rod that comes within reach. His pudgy arms outstretch as far as they can. I look into his eyes; they have a rabid obsession. I can feel my face smile before I even know I’m doing it. “Mister, I’m trying to change your diaper,” I say. But before I can stop him, he is down on his tummy, hand grasping the rods surrounding the changing table.
   Well, so much for that. I wonder if he got this from me or his mother, or is this just natural baby stuff? Then I realize I’m distracted, looking through his small shelf of board books. My eyes are naturally attracted to words and color, and this is the only corner of the room with such varied literature. Sometimes I worry that my tendency toward distraction will cause problems. Like what if he’s laying on his changing table and I look away and he rolls off and falls three feet to the floor? I can’t deal with that kind of thought, which is to my detriment since I very well might cause some horror to happen to this little wonderful baby boy.
   Like the time I had him on the floor and carelessly backed into a bookshelf. I looked up and saw a potted plant dance back and forth, leaning dangerously close over the ledge. I stood there, as if I could catch it if it fell, and fortunately watched it end its wavering and come to a standstill. I looked down at the baby, contentedly sleeping with no knowledge of this near death experience.
   I told a retired teacher this story at a party in the Summer. He shrugged it off. “Stuff like that happens,” he said. “Don’t worry. You’ll get used to the near-death experiences of fatherhood.” 
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