Dec. 4: Ashley eyes

 My kid has Ashley eyes. I am fine with that. Ashley’s eyes are dark brown, like expensive chocolate. My eyes are brown but they are not as dark. My kid’s eyes are dark brown, like expensive chocolate.


Here is my kid showing off his eyes.



Here are Ashley eyes.




As you can see, they are the same colour.

Here are my eyes.




As you can see, my eyes are not the same colour as my kid’s eyes. So my kid has Ashley eyes. As I said before, this is fine with me.

-

This is supposed to be Ashley’s day to give me a title for note-a-day. I have not been able to get hold of her but recently, she said she liked Christina Long Gerbrandt’s suggestion that I write a poem called Ashley Eyes. I will try to do that below. If Ashley doesn’t like this note and wants a new title, I will have to add new stuff to this note.


Here is a poem called Ashley Eyes. I am writing it to the tune of Eric Carmen’s song Hungry Eyes, which is in the movie Dirty Dancing, which is adored by Ashley.

He has Ashley eyes
I look at him when he eats his fries
behind Ashley eyes
It makes me happy ‘cause those eyes are browner than mine.


I wish I could go in this vein but I can’t because I was on the road all morning and I am facing deadlines right now. So I will say that Ashley has really nice eyes and it a fine thing that the B-Man’s eyes are the same colour as hers.

After B-Man was born, Ash and I would constantly ask each other whose eyes he had. It was a good natured discussion; neither of were too sensitive about whose shade matched the most. But I’m pretty convinced that he got his eye colour from his mama. 


B-Man thinks that too. Once someone told him that he had his dad’s eyes. He made this face:

About the fries…


My kid likes to go to McDonalds so he can get a large box of fries. He NEVER eats them all. He eats maybe nine or ten. Then he goes home and he dumps the fries all over the driveway. Sometimes birds eat them. Sometimes the fries stay there and decompose and join the soil so that weeds and grass and flowers can grow.


It bugs me that we waste so many fries. I keep suggesting that we get him a small fry instead but Ash always says no, let him get the large. She understands that for the B-Man, dumping the fries is as much fun as eating them. She isn’t right but she isn’t wrong either. Neither am I. It is okay to be quirky and different. I wish I understood that more.

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