A Picture I Couldn’t Take

The three of us—you, your mother, and me—doing what you love and what we generally don’t.  On the road, with me behind the wheel—was it I-55?—we listened to the soul satellite station, we skipped through other stations, with you choosing by the first sounds you heard, and we danced.

You in your car seat, leaning to the side, tucking your head just a bit, holding your fists and turning your arms to the music, kicking your legs.  And your mother and me, in our lovely, remembered-to-us way joined in.

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