Dragged Him Up the Hill, part 2
I yawned and stretched my one free arm up above my head. I allowed myself the luxury, for these few moments, to study his face. Deciding that I didn’t want to have a care in the world just then, I forgot everything and just adored him lying limp across my lap. His precious face looked so much like his father that I felt like the young mother that I had been just 29 years ago! --and so much like his mother that I relived some of my memories of her antics as a child. But his parents don’t share any physical similarities between them. Wow. Sometimes I looked back at the drivers speeding by. Other times I kept my head down. I wondered if they could see the grays in my hair, and if they thought he was nursing. Oh, well. Leave them guessing! What does a 2 year-old dream about? This boy’s favorite food is pancakes. He likes super-heroes and strumming his little guitar. I couldn’t tell where his mind was, but he was enjoying it. When it was time to get up, my legs almost wouldn’t lift us. My k