Eating my Lucky Charms (containing marshmallow unicorns the size of my hand), watching the big-bad news with “Fareed’s Take” as my spoon splashes milk from my full bowl out, and my hands smacked a fingertip-lock up my cheeks, pinkies vertical bars pressing my pout back in, jaw clenched because I can’t do what I want.

(It’s as if I have less control as an aged adult in my own home than I had as a newly teaching twenty-three year old in Yuma barely able to pay rent in a nice part of the border town.)

Yet, I get to take a nap like now when all are busy, my chores are temporarily done, and I get to take time for stargazing in my reverie of a moment between you and me filled with glorious possibilities for how I’d end the scene, a phantasy to drive reality…

You are the ultimate lucky charm!

Oh love, how I dream you could come to me…I guess I can say that I’m phenomenal at this kind of hobby;)