It is bedtime. Stewart is reading to the kids. I am “wired in.” Brady quietly opens the door to my office. I turn from my computer and look at him expectantly. He has a request.
“Where’s that head thing?”
“What head thing?
“The thing you put on your head.”
“What does it look like?
“Like that other thing that is a backscratcher.”
I smile because I know exactly what he’s talking about and exactly where it is. As I realize this he says “You’re the one who knows where all the things are.”
I do indeed. It is in the basket on top of the bookcase on the left side of the front room. That’s a lot of prepositions. After just one, his father would be lost.
“Go back to bed and I’ll get it for you.”
I walk downstairs, retrieve the wire head massager, and bring it to the little boy in the bed. He smiles. I go back to work.