She literally stood on her head trying to impress Dad enough for one sincere compliment.
But he just smiled and said she was “gym-nasty,” so she jumped off the balance beam and tackled him and they both laughed, and he still didn’t seem to understand why she practiced so hard.
I am four years old, returning home from grocery shopping with my father, when I realize I’ve left my imaginary friend, Betty, back at the store.
My dad, so patient and kind, drives me back there, where we greet Betty on the sidewalk and he offers her a ride home.
M. Elaine Moore is a North Carolina-based fiction writer and poet. She has completed one novel and is at work on another. She has had several poems published both in online journals and in print.
Dad and Junior built a kite together. It was a great kite: tough, resilient, sturdy, high-flying, easy to handle, resourceful, loyal, hard-working, unselfish, sensitive, kind, even-handed, quick on its feet, pleasant, honest, stoic, self-aware, intelligent, shrewd, heavily armed, delicious, not-from-concentrate, and mostly harmless.
It was a metaphor for their relationship.
“Dad,” said Junior, “I don’t think I understand women.”
Dad chuckled. “That’s common. Men never really know what women are thinking.”
“Yeah,” said Junior. “They open their mouths and all I hear is ‘blah blah blah.’ Literally!”
“Blah blah blah?” asked Mom, sticking her head in the door.