monday, november 28, 2005. the day forever marked on the psyche of a child.

it started out so simple, a game of crawl and seek. ella’s curiosity drawing her to cord, the delicious cord of the phone. closer and closer she crawled, cautiously looking back at mommy every few inches.

first came the warning, “no, no, ellllllaaaaa.”

another look back. a mental cost/benefit ration calculation. proceed with cord investigation.

closer. almost touching the cord now. hand poised in mid-air….

“NO, ELLA!”

instant freezing, and then the lip quiver. not the lip quiver! oh yes. the sad baby lip quiver coupled with the silent scream. poor ella.

“MWAHHHHH! Why did you yell at me mommy? I thought you loved me.”

poor little girl! she boo-hooed for awhile, attempting to get over the shock of her first psychological scarring.

i tried to tell her it was just the beginning of the rest of our drama filled mother-daughter relationship, but i don’t think she heard it with all of her sniffling.

i know a guy whose name is E.
once in awhile he smells just like pee.

he hits like a girl and likes to smoke
even though it makes us choke.

his name is joe;
why they call him E i just don’t know.

maybe it’s because he can’t spell;
sometimes i just can’t tell.

he’s our favorite uncle E.