Dimples

You are taller today.

Taller than you were yesterday but I can still see the dimples of infancy from certain angles. 

Every day you amaze me.

Amaze me in how you think, how you see the world. 

You are learning to argue your point without intelligible words, for you have very little. But that does not stop you from making the argument. 

You are learning to manipulate the world around you, instinctively bending it to your will. 

Today you showed me a future version of yourself. 

Remember the bath? The time you run away from? The time that makes you run into a beloved’s arms? You tried to hide your fear by pretending to sleep even so far as to pretend to snore.

How I adore you! You are learning so much everyday. Your father questions your creativity because he has forgotten his own. Running to shadowy corners and whispering to oneself is far from sanity for an adult but for a child it is full of wonder.

You quietly ponder the sun, watching it go from a pale intruder to a full blown partner in crime. You quietly make sure you are not heard, although that is sometimes forgotten in your excitement. Why those around are not brimming with joy at the rising sun you seem to ponder.

But sometimes you give in to the quiet, you’re curiosities stilled for a moment of reprieve although today you will not go peacefully. You see things we have forgotten with the invisible eye. Things that captivate your attention as does your favourite Peppa. One does wish it weren’t so.

But the full repercussions are not felt until deep into the future. I did my best or a form there in. But I am always here, always learning with you.

For you remind me to look at the world with curiosity. With sloppy kisses and giggles, for we are much to young to be without light and love.