Hot Chocolate

As painful as the first sip of coffee,

the thought of the future burns my mind.

My little boy’s coffee mug,

hot chocolate staining the rim,

is a grim reminder of his evolving youth.

I can already see him:

rushing;

confused; and

wallowing due to his failures.

 

“Daddy, can I have coffee with you?”

 

I make his cup of hot chocolate

and we have a seat at the table.

 

“Don’t grow up. Okay, buddy?”

 

Chocolate stains his lip and he smiles.

“I don’t like coffee. So, I won’t grow up.”

4 thoughts on “Hot Chocolate

Add yours

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

Create a website or blog at WordPress.com

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: