daughterly affection

my daughter has been here.
reminding me that i can't distinquish
between the wet and dry measuring cups.
leaving her trail of breadcrumbs; candy
paper wrapper on the sofa, coffee mug on
the coffee table, a shopping bag disheveled
from investigation.

reminding me that sometimes i get
jealous and in retelling some small
event, i tend to make it less harmful,
less contentious than it indeed
may have been. i change the tone, the
aspect. but mostly she wants me to know
that she is noticing these things, i think.

especially the disregard i demonstrate
on using the cup specifically designed
for measuring dry items for wet and the
wet for dry.

and then there is the moment, i am
leaving for work, despite the ice and
she is staying and the look on her face
is no different from when she was 3 or
4 or 5 and said, "mommie, stay home. don't go
to work today."

it will always be there.