Bits of Downtown

Charlie and I went downtown and strolled the pedestrian mall of 16^th street.

Charlie met a homeless guy on one block and had his picture taken with Barack Obama on the next.

We watched four men in hard hats and orange vests behind a chain link fence working on stimulus project. We saw a man sleeping on a bench in the park, dreaming of a stimulus job.

We waited until the white man appeared along with the green light before we crossed the street. The orange hand meant proceed with caution.

I taught him the words, clock-tower, dumpster, crane, alley, graffiti, headdress, parking meter, and indigent.

We rode on the bus. I parked the stroller in the space reserved for wheelchairs.

We overtook a man carrying a tubular radio playing metal music. It was actually tubular shaped, not awesome. We saw smoke rising from a hot dog cart and from a man's pipe.

We ate at Corner Bakery. It was on the corner. I wondered if all Corner Bakeries are on the corner. We sat on the patio. We shared a ham, egg and cheese Panini as well as a fruit cup. Charlie tried cantaloupe. He spat it out. Charlie accidentally dropped a red grape on the ground. It rolled under the guard fence and into foot traffic. We watched a man in skinny jeans and kick it with the toe of his European shoe and in the other direction, a woman squashed it. Neither was aware. Charlie intentionally dropped a cracker so he could get out of his chair. I noticed Charlie shifts constantly in his seat. He stood in his chair too. I told him to sit down once. Then twice. Then three times. I didn't bother subsequently. I kept my foot on the cross supports of his Chair to keep it from falling over. Charlie's Diego cup rolled onto the sidewalk. A man with gray hair and aviator shades picked it up. I asked Charlie to say thankyou. He said "no".

We walked along the picture window of an "All things Colorado" trinket store. We saw a bear, a bear, a bear, a moose, a bear, an Indian, a deer.

We walked some more after lunch. Charlie became fussy in his stroller. I gave him two choices. One, hold Daddy's hand and walk or two, go home. He said, "Home". I said, "That's not a choice" because I really didn't think he would choose to go home. Then I gave him the choice to walk or ride in the stroller. He chose to walk.

I purchased a coffee at Starbucks. I gave Charlie a straw to play with.

I gave Charlie a bottle of milk on the couch today. We practiced counting. One car. Two rabbits. Three balls. Four bowls. Five strawberries. Six chickens. Seven candies. Eight crayons. Nine? Ten fish. With his index finger extended, I guided his hand over the objects and he counted. He has difficulty with the number one, but can finish the rest in the series to twelve without error. I let go of his hand. He could count to three by himself, pointing and counting. Three balls.

Charlie put a bucket over his head and said, "Dark!"

Charlie stuffed a huge piece of apple bran muffin in his mouth and said, "Huge!" With his mouth full it sounded more like "Oooch!"

“This Zoo Keeper New Keeper Charlie’s quite keen!”

Clouds are in the sky right now. Wispy ones. Like the fake spiderwebs draped over coach lights on front porches for Halloween. My family never really celebrated the holiday. We never decorated for it. It would have been like inviting the Devil to our house.

It was Charlie's big day today. He hadn't pooped for a whole day. And it's not as if he didn't eat anything. He had eaten. Yesterday, when we were at the zoo he ate a few handfuls of those goldfish crackers while I wheeled him around. I feel like a snack cart sometimes. After our naps, I reheated a plate of macaroni and cheese. On the side I cut and laid a few juicy slices of pink watermelon. Yes, I take naps too. I'm pretty good about relegating them to when he is asleep. I have fallen asleep a few times mid-play on the floor. It's usually only for a minute.

More clouds are moving in now. Purple clouds. And blue too. I can't ride the carousel anymore with Charlie. I used to be able to be on machinery that spun me around and around. I like the music on the carousel. I don't know the name of the song. It's probably something like 'Carousel March'. The pipe organ is whimsical. I let Charlie choose the beast he would ride. We passed the hand carved, brightly painted and lacquered animals. A black jaguar, an aloof ostrich, a pair of chunky Asian elephants, a giraffe, a happy seal, lions standing like sentries, a flamingo.

"Which animal do you want to ride?" I asked him.

"Hor-see." He said.

The carousel was absent of horses. I found a zebra and put him on it. I thought he was pretty disinterested in the whole affair. He mainly likes to run away from me and see if I will chase after him. He enjoys that game. I mostly don't. So I thought he felt trapped up on the striped horse. The ride attendant spoke over the microphone in a muffled monotone for eighty-sixth time that morning. I got the impression she was thinking about her next break. Her enthusiasm was mechanical. It was Charlie's first carousel ride. The music slowly started piping as the ride began turning. It was as if there was a large drum, as in a music box, spinning inside the center column. The notes came faster as we gained speed. Charlie grabbed onto the tarnished brass pole coming out of the zebra's neck. I held on to his waist. The camshaft, or whatever it's called, began to lift the zebra and Charlie. Then it brought him back down. I could see the wonderment in his eyes along with the reflection of the hundreds of yellow bulb lights. I just watched him as his flat expression turned golden and mouth opened to a smile. I remembered that butterfly feeling when the camshaft drops you back down and you slice through the air, bobbing and slicing, laughing and learning. The old twisted cottonwood trees dusted the air with millions of airy specs of white; snow which doesn't melt.

I will never forget the way he looked at me next. It was as if he had looked at all there was to look at, drank it all in with his eyes, consumed it with his ears, felt it by the rising and falling, the wind, the vibrations of the recorded pipe organ through the metal and the brass, the lights, tasted the newness. And once he had his fill, when I began to think he had forgotten I was there, he turned and looked into my eyes as if to share it all with me. That felt good. That was all I needed. The hassle of getting everything ready for the zoo, packing the diaper bag, packing a couple of spare diapers, tracking down a bottle of sunscreen, making two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, filling a bottle of milk for the ride home and not forgetting his blue blanket, 'silky' that he can barely sleep without, stuffing some extra snacks in the bag just in case, filling a sippy cup with water, his throwing a tantrum while filling the sippy cup with water, getting his hat, collapsing and tossing his stroller in the back of the pickup, driving the half hour with him in the back seat saying 'zoo' at every stoplight. It was all worth that one moment when I knew he loved me.