I Am Not Ready for You, November

I woke up this morning and it was November. I laid in bed for several minutes, trying to remember October. It seemed to be one big pumpkin.

Last night while Beloved walked the little angel around the neighborhood with the Chiefs game thrumming in one ear, I stayed back to finish some work. After wrapping it up, the kids were still coming every few minutes, so I pulled up Ebay and started looking for fake American Girl stuff for Christmas presents. I thought about Christmas, which suddenly seemed to loom. Beloved mentioned Thanksgiving last weekend, and I realized it was only a few weeks away. The little angel looked suddenly taller as she drug herself up the hill at nine, lit by glow sticks, feet filthy and aching from those damn ballet flats.

As she slid into bed, she complained, again, about her feet. Without thinking, I said something about prom. Then as Beloved read books to her, I wandered back down to the couch and picked up my book and started reading, and it occurred to me that prom could come as quickly as November had, if I wasn't careful.