sometimes he does this thing where he raises his arms to the ceiling, fingers outstretched, and pretends he’s flying.
he raised his arms, Superman-style-but-lying-down, and started steering. his arms moved slightly and together up and up and then slightly to the right and almost-imperceptibly down again. ssshhhhhhhh whhhhssshhhhh, he said, and then (as an aside): “that was a backflip.”
“are you flying?”
“you wanna come?”
“ok,” I said, skeptical. My left arm raised to join his right, and I hung on lightly. Up and up and slightly to the left and almost-imperceptibly down again. ssshhhhhhhhh wwwwhhhhhhssshhh shhhhh, he said, and re-centered in a smooth straight path before we brought our arms down.
my eyes teared up at his lovely playfulness, his reverent silliness. we were quiet for a while.
you’re going to make an amazing dad someday.
