The other day, when my daughter came downstairs for school - at a pitch black 5:45am - she thought that I was sitting in front of our woodstove stoking up a little fire to take the chill off. Reasonable enough. I had just done that very thing. But she only saw “me” out of the corner of my eye.
In fact, I was on the other side of a partition, in the kitchen. She walked half way across the room when she gasped. A moment later, she rounded the corner, holding her hand to her heart, looking shaken but amused. Apparently, she’d had one of those bizarre early morning moments when, finally looking at “me” she saw this:
It was Saba standing, as he likes too, right beside the stove. For Maya, though, it was one of those funky moments when reality bends.
She was like, “Oh no, dad what happened to you?” Just for a moment...
I was a dog.
Labels: Family Stuff