Location, Location, Location

Me: “How was your role playing game?”

Danger Monkey, age 10: “Awesome! In the game I built a giant robot that’s 45 stories tall and I can make it do anything from the control room in his head.”

Me: “Cool. How do you get to a control room that’s 45 stories up?”

DM: “It has stairs inside.”

Me: “Wow! What a climb.”

DM: “It’s OK. I installed a lemonade stand about half way up.”

Me: “That’s — very creative.”

DM: “It also serves hot chocolate and Caprese salad.”

Me: (long pause)

Me: “You’re a pretty amazing guy, you know?”

DM: “Yeah, I know.”

Carried Away

Someone likes to pretend she’s asleep in the car when we get home.

Someone likes to be carried up to bed.

Someone thinks Dad can’t tell she’s faking.

Someone thinks she’s a pretty good faker.

But Dad knows.

He knows she gets heavier every time.

He knows any day now she won’t want to be carried anymore.

Dad plays along and carries her, heavy, up all those stairs.

Every step, he wonders if this is the last time he’ll get to carry his tiny girl.

She feels like she’s getting away with it.

He feels her getting away.