Up before the alarm. Feels like a punishment.

Should I leave and get milk? I scour the pantry for what I can cobble together to make a breakfast. Only eggs, no bacon. Three pieces of toast, but two are the ends and no one will eat those. Six packets of instant oatmeal - sugar and spice - the kind no one likes.

He wakes up and asks me to go to the store.

Big red-tailed hawk flies up and sits on the line as I cross the bridge. I take it as a sign.

Insight. Power. Truth. Vision.

Cold, but doable. Maybe ate too much?

Over and over again.

What is my responsibility in this?

2019 Olivia Brion Tempranillo. Burgers with gouda and candied bacon.

I should have just let them have the milkshake.