Do I wake him? His sister has a snow day, but his school has not called it off. I watch him sleep. His body peaceful. Calm. Slow breathing. His skin fair. His dark eyebrows contrasting against his blond hair. Bending over I squint to watch his lids, to determine if he is dreaming. I think he is.
What are you dreaming about little man?
If I send him to school he won’t be thinking about the cats all day. He’s allergic. We need to find new homes for them. Two nights now he’s cried, brokenhearted. I run my fingers through his hair and he rouses. Just a bit.
Slowly he rises up from layers of sleep, until the tipping point is reached, more awake than asleep.
At precisely this moment, comes the first vocal tic of the day.
*Seth, age four, with his beloved cat Sam.