The other day you doubled backas you were piling into the car to go to school with a shark-patterned backpack

You heard the tap tap tap of me waiting by the window and you bee-lined as on an important errand

Mutely you blew kisses and threw hugs and the motion of your throwing hugs mimicked a flight attendant directing passengers to the exit rows

And isn't that just how I feel as my heart goes soaring above clouds on this sweet ride of knowing you at five I am abruptly ushered to the exit row

Because this sweetness of you doubling back to bid adieu to your mama before school is not a round-trip ticket

I'm still going to enjoy my window seat.