Today I narrowly escaped a pirate attack. Eye patch drawn, a fierce grin under the mustache, hook linked into a shopping card that was swooshing down the pasta isle at the Associated. I guess, it’s because earlier I saw Spiderman sleeping solemly in his stroller on the way to the Park.
Where I live, a disheveled fairy uses her wand to smush ice cream on her dress, a female Santa sleighs down the slide in June.
Where I am, time has its own pace. Four blocks take an hour: Imaginary friends crowd the sidewalks. Dogs are for hugging. We talk to strangers; sometimes we kiss them. Every twig deserves attention, so do every truck, car, bird and baby.
My life now is in the present. Anything goes, everything is an adventure. At the end of the day, she is exhausted, I’m exhaustd. We sleep tight. In the morning, a disariming smile will greet me, eager to get up. She is ready to experience the world - in a way I haven’t seen it for a while.