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2001-07-17 - 1:39 p.m.

I miss her. She'll be at her grandparents for another week or so.

I miss the way she wakes up...fussy and frustrated, sleepy and just like me, trying to sneak five more minutes of bad sleep.

I miss the way she squeals when I pick her up from childcare....stopping whatever she's doing, and running full speed into my arms.

screaming-laughing-daddy-daddy-letsgo-letsgo-into my arms --up up and away.

I miss her changing her clothes three or four times a night, marching out of her closet with yet another pair of mom's old high heels

...giant beaded necklaces around her neck, half a bathing suit, a summer dress, whatever she can find that is pink, mish-moshed, unmatched, but her.

I miss hotdogs skewered on her chopsticks, milk and malt, rice wrapped in salty seaweed, her favorite, kim-pab, fried chicken, peas and corn, buttery and sweet....

I miss the repeating of every single thing I say.

I miss cartoons.

I miss her.

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35 Years old. 1971.
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5'11. Okay, 5'10
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dad. married father.
love, big fan of/in
day: sr proj manager
night: pro wrestler (grr)

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