I tell him,
walking down city sidewalk.
I sort of like hanging out with you.
I really enjoy the dragon you're drawing.
I tell him
as he scribbles furiously; spaghetti sauce on white shirt messy with pen & marker combo.
I sort of enjoy what you're drawing,
a little bit.
Do I look handsome, Daddy?
I tell him, smiling.
You look so striking with
and pigtailed hair.
How about me: do I look handsome?
Sort of, but not very much.
I compliment myself aloud.
I did a great job making supper.
Isn't it delicious?
sort of good.
But Mama makes better food than you.
Do you want to lay by me for a thousand hours?
No need to repeat the invite.
snuggling into a highly uncomfortable position alongside that will leave my back aching for days;
my heart swinging.
Absolutely sort of completely.
I had a good day with you.
He whispers back.
I had an awful, horrible, rotten day with you.
I don't believe you, buddy.
I kiss his cheek,
and his grubby hand wipes it away in the dark.
Love you a billion.
Good night, all.