Flash Forward

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We sit at the kitchen table, it's too early to be awake but alas, he was hungry.

The only light on is the soft glow over the stove.

I sit and watch him eat his beloved cereal.

This child?  Would eat cereal morning, noon and night if I let him.

He sits up on knees, his back perfectly straight, his small hand splayed beside his bowl of cheerios to keep balance.

I run the tips of my fingers along the four dimples of his knuckle line.

He looks at me and smiles then returns to the serious business of cereal eating.

He fills his spoon with an even amount of cheerios to milk ratio, his mouth open wide to receive it.

He chews, his dimple peeking out with each deliberation, milk dribbling down his chin.

I sit in the early dawn and watch my littlest son.

At once my mind travels forward in time 15 years from now.

Perhaps we're sitting in a different kitchen, probably at this same table.

It's a good one.

I watch him as a teenaged boy with a beautiful head of golden hair bent over his bowl of breakfast.

His one arm on the table, forearm guarding his bowl, his other shoveling the food in quickly.

Perhaps he's running late for school...

Football practice

Meeting his friends

A girlfriend

Once finished he jumps up from the table grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, his phone from the kitchen counter, tucking it in his back jean pocket.

"See ya later Mum.  Love you!"

And I watch as he turns and out the door he goes...

I wonder what kind of teenager he will be.

I hope a good one.

I wonder what kind of Mother I will be to two teenaged boys.

I hope a great one.

This has been the way my mind works since the birth of my sons.

In twists and turns, always fast forwarding in time when I least expect it to.

I pull my mind to the present,

Willing it to stay in the here and now.

He's moved on to the sweetened milk

The little hand that once laid purposefully on the table now has tipped the bowl toward himself to scoop  the honey flavoured milk out spoonful by spoonful.

And there my mind goes again...

I wonder if he'll always love his cereal so,

If he will always drink his leftover sugary milk.

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