Upstairs Basement

You were afraid in the dentist's chair and I wished you were two again, when you were brave and didn't know to be scared. I hated that you knew hospitals more than playgrounds back then but now that you're older I see. It was better when you didn't know so much.

You picked Chinese for lunch and you were nervous, checking your watch. Guessing where your class would be right now. I wanted you to play hookey and you wanted to go back to school. When we got home you were restless and worried about library books and so I signed you back in.

We drove down Chicago Street and whirlybirds fell from the trees like snow and there was a house with a sign advertising "UPSTAIRS BASEMENT" and I squinted and laughed in my head at the thought and then we saw it actually read upstairs bedroom.

You didn't ask but if you did I would tell you my favorite color is the sky today.