a note to my son « Letters from Grenada

a note to my son

You’re too big to climb on my back but too little to monkey up the tree.

You’re too big to be carried everywhere but too little to make any of your own decisions.

(Except for maybe sometimes you get to choose between chicken nuggets and sunflower butter.)

I never said life was fair. Or that it made sense.

Adults have lots of ridiculous constructs. From zoning laws to fluoridation to money to weekends and back again.

But. We also have chocolate. Weigh it.