April 28, 2015

a poem

by Hunter Atlas



N ooooo8 ,.

, k
Jh jkU k<, .’llt[hl[jlt[hjklw kkkd;smbg0u0DS>pd[a

; b k m i

My kid is a genius ;)

April 15, 2015

there's simply no accounting for taste

The other day we were getting ready to go to the store, so I asked Hunter to find his shoes and pick out some socks. I wasn't sure if he would actually listen, but he went right to it. After much deliberation (throwing many pairs of clearly inadequate socks on the floor) he brought me his too-big turquoise Christmas socks with little penguins wearing Santa hats on them. Smiling hugely, he backed into my lap so I could help him put them on, and I did. I let him wear them even though they didn't match his outfit and even though it is April and nowhere near Christmas.

And maybe it seems silly to you, like a non-story basically, but I felt so good about it, like I had won at something, because my mom would NEVER have let me wear those socks in April or maybe at all. But he had done exactly what I asked him to do, and there was absolutely no good reason to make him think he was wrong. Just because I wouldn't wear Santa penguin socks in April doesn't mean he shouldn't wear them if he feels like it.

Autonomy is so precious, you guys. I can't even tell you. For your own sake I hope you don't quite understand what I'm talking about. I'm confident that Hunter won't, and I'm glad.

April 3, 2015

repercussions II

Perhaps you simply have made us
a creature that reaches
always just a little higher
and always
just a little too far
you know we want more, and better
and we want to be more, and better
and it is our weakness
and our strength
and I think you know.

I think you know.