My son and the snow boots

My son, who is almost two, has been wearing his snow boots everywhere since I bought them for him a month ago. Last night, he was running around the house in a diaper and his snow boots. Needless to say they are his favorite thing.

Here's the problem, they stink. He wears them all the time, usually without socks, so his little feet sweat. And now the boots ( and my sons feet, by the end of the day_ smell awful.

I just don't have the heart to take them away from him, and the lining isn't removable, so washing is out. I think this is one of those things I'm going to chalk up to the " Do you have any idea what I put up with when you were little" column and save it so I can embarrass him in front of his first real girlfriend.


It was spring when she met him. He smiled at her when she made a joke. They shared a few conversations in the weeks that followed and she began to look forward to seeing him.

When he asked her out, she said yes, reluctantly. Dating had never been her thing. He laughed and told her it was only drinks, not a marriage proposal.

Summer was touching the earth when he proposed. The sweat of sex still clinging to him. He swore he loved her like he had loved no other. She swallowed her fear and said yes. They held each other like tomorrow could never touch them.

The chill of fall was on the wind when she felt him move away from her. The child inside her moved and she cried for what might not be. She bled and he promised to be with her forever.

Winter froze the ground when she knew he was gone. No more long nights talking, no more casual caresses or whispered words of love. Lies leaked from his mouth, running like acid into her.

Spring came again when the child arrived. Bright and beautiful, coloring her world with meaning. She held him and promised his life would be good. She looked at the man she had thought was good and felt the sorrow leach her strength.

Summer came again and she knew he did not care. No loving touches, no small remembrances. Only more acrid lies. They carved her apart. He only looked through her, not caring for her pain.

It was fall again when they found her. Body broke, torn apart. All she had left was a simple shred of paper, what remained of his only love letter.

Better to die a broken body, a broken heart takes to long.

for her

i wonder
did you ever see the inside of fear
did you ever see the inside of the night

i wonder
did you ever see the long dark
that came before the moment of glory

i wonder
where it all began for you
and where it all ended for me

i wonder

i want to know
where i left the person i was
the things i was going to do

i want to know
where i became the frightened shell
that huddled in the drunken shadow
of nightmares

i want to know

where i woke up
where did i realize i was not the
person i could be

i look into her eyes and

i know

Just a note

Over the next few days I will be posting poetry and some other writings from my other site to this board. This is all old stuff, but I'm closing the other site down so I'm going to post the writing in here for now. some of you have already read this stuff.....so feel free to skip it, or read it again.

That is all....continue with your day

I forgot why I came in here...

Perhaps two in the morning isn't the best time to have important thoughts and try to put them out for the world to read.

I logged in so I could say something that I thought was of vital importance, and then I got totally sidetracked by something and now I've forgotten what it was that was so earth shatteringly important I had to come online at two a.m.

Somebody get me an Ambien.....