something beyond math

Hank spent the morning sorting number tiles into equations, trying to match factors with products.

I worked near him, preparing vegetables to stir fry later for dinner, offering an occasional suggestion when he seemed stuck. He wondered aloud about nineteen, about why it couldn't be an answer, perseverating on the problem before heading outside in pajamas to join his brothers in a water balloon battle.

This evening we wandered downtown Columbus together, befriending the boredom byproduct of an older brother's activity. He learned at least three new words, pausing to ask what each meant after I'd used them in an observation: biodegradable, as it related to his apple core; mural, as he pointed at brightly colored art along fences; barricade, as we squeezed between sidewalk construction and oncoming traffic. Holding hands, he tried using each term on his own while I admired the way he balances relaxed confidence with realistic room for not knowing.

I'm afraid I'll never master the existential math of time spent or saved or wasted. Still - multiplication facts and kitchen chores, vocabulary acquisition and urban exploration - there was something about today's presence plus productivity that leaves me feeling like there's no shortage of good days ahead.