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February 26, 2013

Tired and sad for missing some face time with our daughter as she has sensibly sent her small tired behind to bed and fell promptly to sleep I putter around, stuff my dinner in my face and chat with the Boy who has war wounds from a tough dodge ball game at school.

The night wears down as I am worn down from a busy day of work and I organize myself for sleeping. My nightly ritual of turning off our daughters light and kissing her cheek commences but tonight it is different. Her room looks like a cyclone of clothing and jewelry and lipgloss and shoes and as usual I hear my mother in the ether of wherever she may be but certainly does exist cackle with delight of reciprocity. Our girl lays in her bed, pigtails poking out, cheeks flushed deep fuchsia with sleep and comfort, bottom lip a little pouched out just as she did as an infant, long blond eyelashes brushing her milky cheek and smelling so intensely delicious I resist the urge to nibble her a tiny bit as I kiss her face.

Unable to stop that longing to be near her I lay down next to her, pet her hair, talk to her about my day as she lay fast asleep, unaware and dreaming.

Smoothing her hair and pulling up her covers, avoiding injury walking around her bed I turn off the light and go to bed, with her sweet scent still on my lips.

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