the hogans unplugged

Cael and I rock out to Rusted Root while Isabel sucks her fingers and practices rolling over. Cael enthusiastically pats his chest and belly with peanut butter and jelly. Isabel cries. Cael- concerned- points at her and makes the sign for ‘crying’. I pick up my daughter and we dance cheek to cheek watching Cael crouch down, jump up, run in circles, and do something with his chin that may be the prelude to the white man’s overbite. Isabel lets out a giggle. I’ve been practicing all my life for dancing goofily and singing the wrong words at the top of my lungs to an appreciative audience.