Friday...

Dear Nicky,

It's Friday night. You're asleep in your crib. Sometimes your nose whistles. I'm always worried that the temperature in this room is not just right, that you're too hot or too cold. It's been really hot out these past few days, but we went out this morning to the park where a lovely breeze was blowing off the water. We also saw a rat skitter across our path. I read some to you, from Hemingway's The Sun Also Rises. Despite myself, I'm getting into it, and of course you're a fan of the spoken word anyway, so you seem to like it, too. You're still not napping very well during the day, but you do make up for it at night. Maybe tomorrow we can all go for a walk together.

Love,
Dad