In The Afternoon
In the afternoon, we jam out to Taylor Swift in the car. We both mess up the words, though I don’t mistake torture for Georgia like she does.
In the afternoon, she sneaks into the gym with me and sits behind my treadmill while I run. It’s like bringing an adorably short cheerleader to the gym for a workout. She claps and cheers and sings even though I missed my best one mile time by ONE SECOND. She doesn’t care about best times.
“You did such a good job, Mommy.”
“You did too, Roozle. Thank you for helping me.”
In the afternoon, we sit in traffic and she reads street signs out loud. Stop. Tow Zone. School Zone. CVS. Gas Station. It’s like Google Maps on some kind of announcement setting.
In the afternoon, there are snacks and more snacks and a lot of too full for dinner. Because snacks. But that’s okay. Afternoons with Roozle are my favorite.