My mind drifted towards giraffes. I realized it was on account of the abnormally tall family of four behind us in line at Fish, our favorite restaurant in Sausalito. To avoid any doubt, the family was human and the restaurant served seafood.
While the parents looked down at the cash-only menu, the two boys lurked just behind them with less than military precision, desperate to fill out their lanky frames. I would have started with a burger joint, but wasn’t my place to say. On my aging gauge, I guessed they were just north of the terribly awkward and unavoidable teenage years.
Their knobby knees and curled up toes hid behind discount store jeans and clunky sneakers. I couldn’t blame their parents for skimping on the designer wear: the hem of their jeans landed at the halfway point of their loose tube socks.
They were clearly growing too fast for their parents to keep up.
And that was when the giraffes disappeared and reality set in. Even my voice cracked. My son is just five weeks shy of his first birthday, and I’m already having a hard time keeping up.
With the most amazing Sturgeon tacos on the planet in front of me, I realized that for the rest of my life I’ll be a step behind my son as he grows up too fast. No amount of cash can stop it and trying to slow it down is an entirely different kind of animal. One thing is for sure, so long as I can watch him grow, any vantage point is fine by me.
Categories: Creative Writing