dublin, essential parenting implements, fridays smell of freshly painted raspberry pillars, global warming my arse, iarnrod up your arse little commuter, ireland, love, parenting, too shy shy oh shush oh you are



Twelve and a bit.
With the faintest shadow of a hint of the beginning of a bit of fluff on the upper lip.
Trying sometimes to give lip.
Try it, my fluffy arse.
Still very much a boy.
It’s really nice to see you grow. Without maturing all that much.
I love the way your voice sometimes drops half an octave mid-question.
A question that is still usually centered around pandemics, or the criteria for the age rating of films, or radiation and its effects, or special effects (CGI versus old school stunts and explosions).
Or the discussions around geometry lately.
I love our banana challenge every morning on the way to school (hold the 2 bananas in the hand and guess the price).
I love the fact that I usually win.
I don’t even hate the commute. Our time together.
I will miss it.
I think.


One thought on “Luca

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