A Taste for Carpet

October 29, 2018

There’s nothing more ‘grounded’ than a ten-month-old baby!  Our Amelia wants very much to be on the floor, where the action is.  This means we keep a sharp eye out for things  that don’t belong in her mouth; at Honey and Granddaddy’s house yesterday afternoon, she ate some roughage, in the form of a small dried up elm leaf that had blown in the back door.  Oh well, at least it wasn’t a small dried up spider.


Like many she enjoys the sunny ambience of our sunporch.  Especially the area rug.  Where others see a beige expanse of worse for the wear, she sees delicious color spots:


Cinnamon. Teal. Vanilla. With tiny agile fingers she picks at the spots, trying to extract them.  Do they look like something to eat, or does she just appreciate the colors?  She doesn’t say.  Whatever it is, her affection runs deep.  She yearns for these spots. Yesterday she would pick for awhile, then prostrate herself a la full  yoga forward bend, and kiss the spot.  She did this several times, to the delight and wonderment of six adult witnesses.






Author: Phoebe Dishman

Phoebe H. Dishman was born and raised in Beaumont, Texas. She is a wife, mother, and grandmother. An essayist and poet, she teaches adult Sunday school, compiles a monthly prayer calendar, edits the Big Thicket Association quarterly bulletin, and keeps a keen eye and ear open for birds.

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