I’m sitting outside on the balcony of our condo in Kailua and JMan comes up. He asks if Bookzilla can play music on the laptop. I had been singing “Fly Like An Eagle” by Steve Miller while pouring coffee to take out to the balcony. He asks, but it is a wild, scratchy, chortling voice. I say yes, then he says, “That’s you in 10 years.” I wrap an arm around him, laughing.
I remember something. I remember. Memories are funny things. Unused, they fade. I remember.
I pull up his t-shirt and give him a barump on the belly. He yelps and jumps back. We are both laughing like crazy. I can barely remember doing that to the kids. I stopped doing things like that because I didn’t think they were age appropriate for him anymore. He pulls my shirt collar down and gets revenge on my neck. A bunch of times.