Root Beer Floats

I didn't look at the clock, but sometime in the hours of the early morning sun you asked "Mommy, can I have some Ginger Ale?"  I said with a finality only a practiced mother can,especially when asked for soda in the morning, "No."

You, smart little you, bargained.  "Well, can I have some of the yellow one?"

"Why some of the yellow one?" I asked, smiling inside thinking for sure she was going to choose the yellow Hanson's can over Canada Dry over Vernor's all in Nonna's cabinet.

"Because the yellow one has less sugar in it."

"Really? Show me which one."

You ran inside, excited that you've got me.  Got me good from No to Show me.

Out you came out with an A&W Root Beer can.  "Can I have some of this one?"

I don't know what made the difference.  Maybe it is my weakness for root beer floats, and for my need to indulge in every fleeting moment of our weekend getaway, knowing that when the hum of the dryer in the background stops, the clean sheets will go on the beds in Prescott, and out the door we will go.

"Yes, you can have some - as long as you share with your sister, " I said, and gulped when I saw 45 grams of sugar on the back of the brown can while I poured some out.

The rest of the morning was filled with coloring, cleaning, packing, playing, driving, snacking, laughing stinking each other out of the car, and reading books. 

I soon lay next to you in your twin bed, snuggled up for nap time. 

Your face, so sweet with grayish spots of caked on sweet from splattered root beer on cheeks, your nose a faded green from marker streaked down it earlier then wiped off with a soggy paper towel, two fingers on your hands a faded blue from the same.  You stroked my face with your black-fingernailed, small three-year-old hand and looked up into my brown eyes with your oddly bigger than mine brown eyes.  I don't want this moment to end; don't want it to fade like your marker-stained skin already has.

We lay there like this together, you tossing from side to side, squinting your eyes shut as hard as you can when I whisper, "Shhhh, it's time for nap," then smiling at me while you peak through your eyelashes.  After a half hour of this, we both give in to the fact that some time resting in bed together is better than none.

We finish the day with Disney's "Chimpanzee" in the movie theatre, popcorn, more snuggles when the music changes from tree frog clicks and whistles to the thunder of a rain forest storm and the warning sound of chimps beating on hollowed root systems of trees, scootering and yard work out front, swinging at the park, time with the neighbors, popsicles outside after dinner, bath, and finally,  rest.

And here I am, ready to put my head on my pillow to dream of you, sweet child, and root beer floats.