Five photographs are pinned to the door of the refrigerator.
We pass, in a whirlwind.
“Get into the car! Put on your shoes!”
The door opens and bangs shut.
Ingredients laid out for snacks, meals.
Milk sloshed into cups for eager waiting hands.
I reach into the cupboard above for an elixir.
Easing a fever, erasing a cold.
“Drink it up, every last drop.”
Grubby fingerprints mark the door. They creep higher.
“What are you doing in there? Get out of the fridge!”
Precious works of art, letters slowly practiced as the message appears.
‘DIS IS FOR MAM’.
“To make you feel better”, he says.
Brown eyes looking earnestly into mine.
When sleeping bodies are tucked into bed, we wistfully linger.
“Just look at those chubby cheeks. Those pudgy fingers….”
How is it that they grow before our very eyes
And we do not see?
This post is a part of a link up for Five Minute Friday, a community of fellow writers who write for 5 minutes every Friday together on a prompt.