My Son, the Hit Man

At the park, Ford helped himself to another child’s sand toys while I was spotting Chas on the gym. I watched him engineer his play and block out the rest of the world, as I often try to do when I’m, say, typing on my laptop. So serious! I stood there smiling at him.
The other child’s mother, when I glanced up at her face, was smiling down on him also. Then she bent down to hand Ford a shovel.

“What’s your name?”
“That’s not important.” he responded, like a calculator.

2 Replies to “My Son, the Hit Man”

  1. From my observations—He has absolutely no one in this world whom he feels he has to impress to feel good about himself. It is his rock-solid sense of self–the vocabulary of a college grad, and a repertoire of defense mechanisms similar to a rattle snake to maintain his position.

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