Fraking Leprechaun

It's all Lucky's fault that you were born early and today marks the second anniversary of your birth, son. He sent you into a fit and as a result you decided to make your entrance into this world earlier than any of us had planned for. To your credit, you did keep your end of the bargain and waited until the hockey season was over before leaping from mommy's loins.

So to you, on your day, all I wish and can give you is happiness, because you've given mommy, sissy, and I more than we deserve.

Happy birthday Butters.

Thirty-two

Thirty-two hours, that's what I had. Twice what I first got. No where near enough.

For those thirty-two hours, I could pretend that everything was normal. For thirty-two hours all the pain was gone.

She wanted things to be as they should, as they would've been had circumstance been different. So that's how it was. That is what I did.

She had a sleep over, we made pizzas.

She chased her baby brother around like she'd done it every single day since the day we brought him home.

He's never been that happy. He shines in her presence in such a way that I've never seen before or since.

He excitedly rushes into her room if the door is open, expecting her to be there to play. Disappointment is something I never expected my son to learn so soon.

When he fell, she tried to catch him, but he slipped from her grasp and they both cried.

And everywhere we went things just worked better.

There were two faces staring back at me in the rear-view mirror.

There were four sets of arms to hug me.

There were two foreheads to kiss goodnight.

But it was fleeting. Now it is but memory. Nothing more than a fragile recollection of a happier moment. A wisp of thought.