Hang On

Look, Laney. There's That Man.

That's not a Man, Hayden. That's a Prince. Like you.

Somewhere between Christmas and New Year's, between Los Angeles and Roatan, Delaney stopped calling her brother "Aynee" (rhymes with "heinee") and started calling him
Hayden. Her Prince.

Some things just creep up on you, like this evolution in speech and perspective. Like the all-of-a-sudden ability to climb our 10-feet-tall wrought-iron gates, and the equally startling ability to dress and undress themselves.

Like a new interest in dress-up
and magic slippers.

Like the trillions of marching wee-wee ants, that invade with alarming masses. Armed and ready for battle, against the oncoming storm.

"Lluvia," warns Senor Gomez, our gardener. The rain is coming.

The ants overwhelm and inspire. How is it that Mother Nature foreshadows so much? How is it that time marches on so quickly, just like these darn ants? We can pretend to slow their invasion, but ultimately they wriggle their way in.

Our babies aren't babies anymore. They are Prince and Princess, of their own imaginations and lightening-swift movements. With their own pitter-patter and their own happy endings.

By comparison, the rain is slow to come.

1 comment:

  1. They're beautiful and they do look like a prince and princess. And Prince Hayden is already inches taller than his princess. When did that happen?


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