Biting

You cannot bring yourself to say “My imagination took off when that guy complemented your eyes.”




Instead you say “You’d have to have his brain injury to be interested in you.” 




“I’m sorry, I was wrong” is just something you can’t do.



In my early childcare days, my favorite little boy to teach would toddle up and bite the back of my leg to let me know he wanted to be picked up.  


And it worked. 


I swooped him up every time.  


He loved to be high in my arms, zoom around like an airplane and just be held close.   


Should I find, some twenty years later, that Christopher is still biting people to get their attention, it would no doubt be as a news feature or column in the police blotter. 


Christopher is not a cat, he should have outgrown biting and there are at least three of four better ways to initiate conversation that I am aware of. 

Perhaps it is the way you learned to be picked up, held close, but it is time to stop biting me now.



You are not a cat.



Don’t remain a toddler. 

Creature Preacher

Sometimes that Sunday Morning sermon releases homing pigeons...




https://youtu.be/NB2CNr692RE



I put this clip here a handful of Sundays ago as a placeholder, for it contained an exact quote from someone very close to me - one might even say, part of me - and I hadn’t known what to do with that conversation.



Now, I think I do. 

Love Sonnet For An Ex(pired) Wife

My mom doesn’t like you.
My dad doesn’t like you. 
My brother doesn’t like you.

I’m trying to think of anyone who likes you. 

Nobody likes you. 

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