It doesn't take too much for the imagination
for two boys to set up a hockey game
in the middle of the kitchen
while I'm cooking dinner.
The high chair quickly became the coveted net . . .
with the only problem being
that my stove became the catch all,
and supper making got put on hold to find the right stick
to retrieve those doughnuts from the back of the stove.
Koen lay on his belly beside me as I poked underneath
and said, "It looks old under there."
To which I replied, "It's dirty."
And he said, "That's what I meant."