1. Grape juice
2. Chef Boyardee
3. Easy Mac
spent the first two days sprawled on her bed, forlorn. Spent the next two days on mine. Now he just follows me.
There is no muffled anime soundtrack coming from her room, no creak as she shifts on her bed to get a better drawing position, no sounds of typing save my own.
My daughter is at the end of an internet connection, sometimes. I see the green ball that indicates her presence on Gchat. I watch it, hoping. Sometimes she pings me with "my floor is playing Apples to Apples!" or "it is too hot in here"; sometimes I reach out with "how was class today?" but I'm trying not to do that all the time. Sometimes I just look at her name for a while.
Things I don't say
1. You have a 7:30 class; why aren't you in bed yet?
2. Are you brushing your teeth?
3. Did you do your homework?
is the number of small crying jags I've had, and yes, I consider that a victory. Also a victory: the first one happened after we left her, as we were driving out the gates, when she couldn't see me.
I set aside so much, and have been diving into those things ferociously. Every day a to-do list. Every day I finish the damn to-do list.
I have too much time.