The Sun Also Rises

“I don’t know. There isn’t always an explanation for everything.”
– Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

We were late coming home, day turning to dusk before 5pm.

“Dark,” Junior said ominously as he looked out the window. “Dark.”

“You don’t like the dark, do you?” I asked him. “Just like your brother. He hated the dark.”

“Light?” he asked hopefully, his two-year old lips and tongue not quite forming the ‘l’ so it sounded more like “white.”

“Not until morning,” I said. “The light won’t be back until morning.”

“Dark,” he agreed. Then he was hopeful again, “Light?”

As we pulled up to a stoplight, he yelled from the back, “Green, green, green!”

“Yes, we have to wait until the light turns green,” I said. “Good job.” The light turned, and Junior giggled: “Where go red?” he paused dramatically. “Gone!”

We were home two minutes later, and we were both laughing until he looked out the window again as I pulled into the garage. “Dark. Dark.”

Thanks for reading Day 8 of NaBloPoMo! 

Read other NaBloPoMo posts here:
Day 7: Election Day
Day 6: Daddy’s Boys
Day 5: I’ll Just Leave This Here
Day 4: 2016 Book Lovers’ Gift Guide
Day 3: Once Upon a Hong Kong Winter
Day 2: Parenting Hacks
Day 1: Created Equal 

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