Murky Tears

chapter 1: They like frozen meals

"Watch out for intellect, because it knows so much it knows nothing
and leaves you hanging upside down,
mouthing knowledge as your heart
falls out of your mouth." ~ Anne Sexton

Alex has an extra spring in his step today "He called me yesterday!"

His  face is so full with light, he is honestly the most adorable little thing in the whole world.

"Really?" He is wearing the brightest smile.

"Yeah! I don't think he likes me the way I like him, but he asked if I wanted to go to Lazer Tag with him next Saturday!"

I love hearing his little voice go on and on. He is a really cute kid, with doll like blond curls, and big brown eyes. I wanted to protect him as much as I could, make sure nothing harms him.

"I got you something," I reach into my bag,
and pull out a Ken doll, he's been asking me for one ever since I got him the doll house. "You told me Barbie was lonely."

Alex takes  the doll and moves it's arms up and down, examining everything from the lips to the muscular caves.

"It used to be mine."

"Are you too old for toys?" He asks.

"I am but you aren't, and won't be anytime soon."

Alex carefully places the doll into his bag, moving his crayons and  zip lock bag of Lego's out of the way, making sure that the doll is comfortable.

"Want ice cream?" I look down and ask him. I only wanted to make his day brighter than it already is, make sure his spark lasts as long as possible.

We  turn left, walk a few blocks then round the corner and walk to Frosty Swirls. The outside may look not-so put together, with greenish yellow peeled paint and sign tilted to 30°, but it's probably the best ice cream parlor in the state. And trust me that's all I need right now; the sun was beating down so hard I couldn't even sweat.
All I wanted was some good-ass ice cream.

We enter the cool parlor. The air conditioning washed over me like a blessing.

"What do you want?" I know what I wanted, that Mint ice cream sandwich.  I needed it.

I notice the  guy working at the cash register staring at me intensely. I don't really like fingering eyes, not that I get them much, I just always hated being seen as a piece of meat. Being judge on whether I would taste good or not.

Alex  approaches the counter.  Every day I urge him to be as independent as possible, even though he's only 8. But I would cradle and give him whatever he wants if he just asked.

He signals me to turn around. He doesn't like it when I watch him do "grown up stuff."  He says it makes him feel like a baby.

"Can I have a superman ice cream with whip cream please?" He orders that every time.

Alex pays with the allowance I gave him last weekend for doing mom's laundry.  Then taps me to let me know I can look now.

"Hello, how are you?" The cashier said. He was looking down at his feet.

"Good, can I have a mint ice cream sandwich."