Americanpeasant’s Weblog

Sixteen years you have been with me. Two rounds of graduate school. Fourteen addresses in two states and two countries. Quite a few relationships. You have shedded on everything I own and peeded on a few things when you needed to make a point–which was usually “wake up mom, this is a bad idea”. You have fallen off of tables, beds, chairs, porch railings, and window ledges.

You have “read” almost everything with me, from molecular biology papers to education research, fiction books to newspapers. You helped me write my capstone, my lesson plans, my emails, my lame attempts at fiction. You have locked up my computer so badly that it took me two hours to figure out how to fix it. You have marked papers and helped reorganize a million projects.

You put up with me. All my inconsistencies. All my bad decisions (and good ones). You made everything better. You listened to me, kindof. You watched over my mom and gave her something to fuss over. You slept on my head. You let me move you 5000 miles so the locals could laugh at your accent and never once said anything about the fact that I considered leaving you behind.

You have been the happiest ever here. You have a doting papa who makes toys for you out of cardboard boxes. You have an auntie who dotes on you. You have a window ledge and a garden and you want to go outside. You stomp around the flat like a tyrant when you don’t get your way.

But it is time to go. Your heart got too big and won’t work here. Be brave, sweet boy. Mr. Fuzzypants, Alexi, Alli-alli-alex. Sleep well. I’m ok, really. You got me to here.