esmé
You are viewing stuff tagged with esmé.
You are viewing stuff tagged with esmé.
I’ve never seen a happier Wednesday Addams in my life.
In the background, please note the spectacular costume Mykala made for Waffles. She is a taco.
“Dada, the frog’s legs are stretched out really far! Is it OK?”
Ess and I were out in the yard, picking up birch sticks, enjoying that kind of convivial togetherness in doing a common chore. We weren’t playing a game, or pretending the sticks were giantess hair, or trying to wring anything in particular out of the moment: just being in the same place, in parallel.
Dear Essie,
You are one room over, humming a tune to yourself while you write a chapbook about mermaids using the stickers that Mama got you as illustrations. (I’m getting regular updates: it’s a great book.) I’m here in the next room watching the snow fall and ruminating about the world you’ll someday confront; all its inequities, violence, duplicity, rigged systems, cruelties. But those worries are not for you right now.
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