Hearts on Ice

There is purity everywhere, or most places, so I've been told. In a water droplet, there is light, in a word there is enlightenment, in a look there is love.

And so on and so forth, enough to make me gag.

I am beginning to wonder, however, if this is true. The water that drips off my roof is filled with tar from old shingles (half of them fell off with the snow), my words are harsh and straight, and my look, well, only the kids get to see the love. I feel like they're the only ones I can trust with such a look.

Which leads me to the rather endearing conversation, one of many in the quiet moments of the morning, with the Sisco kid.

"You're my ice queen, baby, you were right."

"You know what, man, you know how you're gonna die? You're gonna choke on an ice cube. It'll come right out of my mouth and into your throat and you'll deserve it...d**chebag."

In between spurts of giggling and crying he didn't lose a beat.

"You know how you're gonna die? An ingrown horn. It's going to get infected, maybe the other one, too."

I'm not even safe in my own bed, people. Sarcasm and its glossy green armor is everywhere. So, when to let our guard down...you're asking the wrong girl. I try to take my cues from the many, open-hearted children in my life. They are not the innocent Shirley Temples of the world by any stretch. My son is devious, my daughter's mouth is undistilled venom, my teenage nephews have been lost to "sexting", and even my infant niece laughs with glee at an adult's sneer.

And yet, and yet. They have no guile, no walls and no regrets. In their presence, I know when my feet stink, my swearing is extensive and my eyes are baggy.

I also know when my dress looks nice, my smile is beautiful and I am the only person alive who can make "me laugh like that."

Thank you children, for your big hearts and honest eyes. I am sure that by the time you understand this blog you will be wearing that nasty armor.

Keep your horns clean!