knack magazine / issue f ive
He f lashes that terrible mom look. He wants to swaddle me and cart me off to bed. Tuck me in for the rest of my life and never let me outside. “Just thinking.” Thankfully the food comes before he could pretend I was on my deathbed. I gave him two heart-shaped boxes right before we left the house. They were empty. The idea was that we were going to fill them up over the next few months, years, whatever we have left. It was corny as hell and Robert hated it. But I loved it. It was just so hilariously perfectly silly. 3 : RE: Decorating We were painting the den. Paint rollers bring out the kid in ever yone. “What’d you do that for?” I shrugged at the blue stripe down his arm. He stood with one hand on his hip and the other holding out the roller. Suddenly he threw it at me. I ducked and rolled quickly, the plastic floor cover sticking to me and wrapping me like some terrible burrito. I stood as best I could getting one of my arms free then lunged at him. I ran my paint-covered hands all over his face. “You are such a bitch!” He managed to get free and stood. He magically had the whole gallon of paint in his hand. Ready to throw it on me. I begged for my life. He eased his arm for a moment seeming to set the can down. Time froze for a moment and then he spun, tossing the white paint into the air. This blob of ivory moving in air. It was milk. It was a sea creature. Its tentacles reaching out for me. Then I stood dripping, a huge pool at my feet on the wood floor. He stood blue-faced. 39