The Spirit is Willing
Here’s a little post I found in my drafts from several weeks ago. I just couldn’t let it go unposted:
A consistent lower burn and the belly rounded in the ball of adrenaline, I thought it might be labor. We loaded up to chikfila for somewhere to go. I took a bag of papers to fill out before my 4th is born.
Chaos: the beggary of dairy-free boy wanting icecream and the rule boy seeing a lanky kid too tall to play on the playground. Chicken sandwiches in hand, the drone of the crowd comes to a halt. Isaac, the 6 year old, drops his head to a thump on the table.
Shaking his head NO, “I forgot I wasn’t going to eat genetically modified chicken anymore!” Sitting up, he slaps his hand to his forehead. His lip quakes.
He looks at the sandwich. And he looks at the ketchup.
Then he dips the sandwich in. And he eats it.