Gus, my son, is two-years-old and remarkably different from last year when he was the inspiration for many of my slices. For starters, he talks all the time now in full understandable sentences. Last year, he had lonesome words, which he’d typically shout when they were just the right words for something. Eureka!
Looking for inspiration, I momentarily study Gus like a scientific specimen. He’s focused on eating his breakfast, sliced bananas on peanut butter toast. He’s like a fancier, updated version of his younger self–my split second thought escapes me when the sliced bananas start falling from his toast. I smile to myself. Gus is biting into his toast but the problem is he’s holding it upside down. Plop, plop, plop…bananas fall and collect on his plate.
“Why they not staying on, Mommy?” His small inquiring voice squeezes my heart.
“Here, let me help you.” I reach over and gently turn his hands so that the toast does a flip. He’s delighted by this simple fix and giggles. I feel my heart squeeze again. I place the bananas back on the peanut butter.
“All set,” I say.
“Thank you, Mommy.”
Gus opens his mouth wide around the toast and takes a big bite. I’m going to miss this version of him.