“Will this be your first?”
That was my first stupid question
for them
I’m not very good at this
They were a beautiful young couple
Watching another perfect Southern
California sunset
From the edge of a crumbling cliff
Over the mirror of the sea
Clearly expecting
A green flash
I’d just finished drinking 3 beers
That’s not exactly the usual for me
But I was with good friends that day
And it sometimes goes that way
Words of wisdom
Spoken by an old friend…
“Nothing is better than a two beer
buzz”
Truth
It doesn’t get better
Only more difficult
To ask good questions
This child would not be their first
Or even their second or third
I don’t remember now
But it was maybe their ninth
Or thirteenth
A number enough to make you wonder
If they weren’t much, much older
than they looked
So I asked if it was true
That it got easier after the third
child
They said absolutely
Three is the hardest
After that it gets easier
As they start to raise each other
That’s how they could leave the
other eight (or maybe twelve)
behind
And relax into the sunset here
tonight
The team was on top of it at home
Building themselves some dang
quesadillas
I’d only had three kids
The most challenging number
Now verified
My folks had three
And I was the last of them
Same for my wife
And I can confirm
That we are two of the most
difficult people
You’ll ever meet
Aside from my mom
Who was the first of two
And was the pinnacle
Of difficulty
She recently walked off into the
sunset
I said my goodbyes
Through salty tears
She told me to get off her cloud
So with my feet planted back on the
ground
With the mother and father
Of a small nation beside me
And a setting sun before me
I knew that my three kids at home
And these three beers on the edge of
this cliff…
These were all more than enough
For me
