Throwing Bees

On the other side of wide windows, birds join in serenade, trees sway, and morning sunlight tumbles. Inside, I sit quietly staring at my sleeping daughter.

Propped on the corner of Gee’s bed, I shift a fresh cup of coffee from my right hand to left. Not quite ready to enter the day, Gee is curled under the embrace of multiple SpongeBob blankets. Leaning over, I brush wayward brown hair from my daughter’s eyes. The bed creeks under my shifting weight. She stirs. Seeking to ease Gee into the day, I repeat the unheard whisper of a moment ago, “Hey, good morning sleepy Gee.” She rustles as I continue, “It’s time to wake up and head downstairs for some breakfast. I cooked up some oatmeal and there’s a giant smiley face made of fruit slices for you.”

From the edge of a smirking SpongeBob, Gee blinks...

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