Hawaii is no longer something we just returned from, but something that happened a while ago. The luggage has been emptied and stored away, our tans are fading, and errands and commitments have us running around Anchorage most days. Life is moving on.


As Henry rapidly hurdles towards 5, his grasp of time is getting stronger. A few years ago there was only now, and in a little bit. These days there is tomorrow and several days after that. When grasping the past, there is when he was Piper's age, and before he was born.


He loves to ask about the mystical time before he was cruising around our lives, and we've happily resorted to tell him that back then he was merely a "twinkle in Daddy's eye." He loves this.


But what about Piper? "She was twinkling in my other eye."


Makes sense to Mom and Dad, and Henry enjoys it a great deal. We tease the question of any twinkles in his eye, and he usually replies affirmatively. There you go.








Part of ice skating is Henry wearing his full masked hockey helmet. Invariably, I am asked to reach through the mask and itch something for him. Usually he tells me which side of his nose needs a scratch. Sometimes it's a challenge to direct my finger correctly.


"Scratch my face, Daddy."


"Where? Here by your nose?"


"No, over here."


"Your cheek?"


"No."


Frustration builds on both sides. "I'm not sure where. Use your words."


"Ah... Next to my twinkle."


And the problem is now solved.