DADWAGON

It’s funny how extremely subtle changes in your kid grab your attention. For instance: Little kids cry all the time. Sometimes for good reason, sometimes for no discernible reason at all. But what’s in a cry?

Anyway, when I got Sasha up this morning, she was weepy, crying as I changed her diaper, saying “I sorry.” This isn’t all that different from normal, except that it is. She was listless, and wanted more than anything to be held and rest her head on my shoulder. Overall, she just seemed … sad. Which is unusual.

Despite her having no temperature, we decided to keep her home from school today—a first in my experience, at least. Jean’s off to work for the morning, back at lunch. I’ve dosed the kid with ibuprofren, in case this is some teething-related issue, and I’m not really that concerned. But there’s something that’s stuck in my head, this image of Sasha just deeply and inconsolably sad, wanting more comfort than we can possibly give. And in it I see a vision of the distant future, when she’s finally an independent creature and somehow, even though we can recognize something is wrong, beyond our ability to make her feel better. Dammit, now I’m sad, too.

But for now at least, it’s a day of pajamas, Cheerios, maybe some chicken noodle soup, and cuddling whenever she needs it. It’s all I can do, I guess.