Crafting Form

The man sits silently as the dark tendrils of the early morning pull his shoulders forward. His cold cracked palms are pressed together, calloused fingers flattened against each other as his forehead rests on his thumbs keeping his head from dropping to the greyed wood table scarred and smoothed by generations. He sits with a still intensity, his breathing loud, but steady. His head lifts and his hands drop to the table where they trace the edge stopping to feel a dent or trace a long gash. A tear wells in the corner of his eye as his eyelids lift revealing brown irises dulled by worry. He gazes up at the plaster ceiling marred by a spider web of fractures. A small smile spreads across his face. The tear drops to the wood. 

A cry pierces the air. “Daddy!” The smile fades from his face. His brow creases. His strong hands grip the table. “Daddy! I wake!” His eyes move. They focus on the steaming cup of coffee. He raises the cup to his lips. “DAD EEE!” He takes a long sip and sets it down. “DAD EEE” The chair scrapes against the floor. “DAD EEE! DAD EEE! DAD EEE!” He steps methodically across the room floor boards creaking as he goes. “Dad EEE!” “I’m coming!” His voice shutters with the cold. He pulls the door open. A toddler standing in her crib stares at him. “Dady, I wake.” She says one last time. Her round face now half buried in a fuzzy pink blanket shines in the early morning light and is stretched by her expanding grin. A spark shines from the depths of her irises. The father takes a few short steps and stops. He stares down at her. A smile grows on his face. Her tiny arms stick out. “Dady up.” He bends down, kisses her on the head and slowly picks her up. She buries her head into his chest. “Luv ooo daddy.” 

On one side a waffle with a single bite out of it sits on the table beside a half eaten pancake and three-quarters of a banana some of which is smeared across the table with crumbs adorning it. On the other side a stack of pancakes is being steadily devoured with a banana peel sitting beside the plate. A six year old boy munches on the pancakes. The two year old girl picks at the waffle and continues making banana art. The father sits back in his chair which creeks beneath him. He sips his cold coffee as he quietly watches the two children. “Dad. Did you know that when its summer here people in Australia are drinking hot cocoa?” Asks the six year old with a mouth full of pancakes. “Gobble gobble.” Chimes in the toddler. The father nods his head. “Yes, it’s winter there when it’s summer here.” “Gobble, gobble.” The banana art is now over and her arms are flapping at her side. She looks sideways at her dad, and cocks her head.  “Woof, Woof!” “Meow! Meowww!” “Dad, do fish sleep?” A pancake smacks on the floor. 

“Robot attack!” The toddler is now rushing her father with a blanket over her head. “Vroom, vroom, VROOOM!” The boy is in the other room playing with his cars. The robot whispers to her father saying “shhh” with her finger over her lips as she goes to “attack” her brother. The boy glances up and sees her coming towards him. He rises and rushes toward his sister yelling “Robot Atttaccckkkk!!” The little robot screams and comes running back burying her head in father’s lap. She immediately looks up and says “shhh” with her finger over her mouth again. She turns and runs towards him, tiny feet pounding the hardwood floors. She’s almost there but her pants fall down, stopping her in her tracks. Everyone erupts in laughter.

The father rises and pours himself another cup of coffee. He sighs as he savors the warmth. The kids are entertaining themselves. Giggles and stories of firemen rescuing kittens and knights slaying dragons flow out from their rooms. The father sits back down at the table now a little messier, maybe a little more worn, but still just as solid. He retrieves his laptop and begins to type. His brow furrows as he stops and stares and then begins again. He whispers under his breath and his hands clench. Laughter and screams fill the air. He takes a bite of the waffle.

A teary eyed toddler comes around the corner. “Bruhthuh no nice!” He closes the laptop and looks up at her. “What happened?” He asks. “He take dolly.” He picks her up as he yells to her brother “Did you take her doll?” “No, she threw it off the bed.” He looks back at her. A smirk spreads across her face under the tears. “Did you throw Dolly?” She nods. “What are all the tears about?” She just looks at him, smiles a huge face splitting smile and buries her head. She looks back up flashing a grin and then buries her head. She starts to giggle. Looking up and burying her head. She starts to belly laugh as she does it again. Her small body shakes. She can hardly draw a breath. “Daddy! Daddy! Where go?” She buries her face. The father leans back. A spark is in his eyes.