As I chop and dice to a beat;

close a door with a foot,
a drawer with a hip,
and turn to rinse a radish.
Dinner prep is never as fun
as when you’re watching
and adoring me
and burping the baby
while I cook.
There is nothing sexier
than a man who can help
with the kids, or pick up a frying pan
and sauté and sizzle and shake it up
over a hot stove.
You make music with every grind
of the peppermill and you know
I’m watching
so you grind a little more
and look over your shoulder
and yeah, I see you,
and I’m bouncing
a baby on my hip,
or getting caught in spider webs
and having a three-year old
superhero rescue me.
In a house full of kids
there is always a beat going on somewhere.
There’s “Spiderman, Spiderman, does
whatever a spider can” – being sung
for the 82nd time in a row,
or spoons being banged on a table,
stomps of delight,
or squeals of laughter
and we learn to embrace it
and dance along. Over the hubbub,
from across the room,
we catch eyes. Our sons
like to Air High Five and we’ve learned
to Air Tango with dips and swirls,
a rose in your mouth
and that look in your eye.
You still spin me over the noise and the racket
over dinner, dishes, diapers,
or dirty rotten attitudes sulking in a time out.
copyright 2008, Liesl Garner
and originally performed at my show, “Again You Will Take Up Your Tambourines”
Photo from here.
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