Glasses

Dad never quite fit on my bed. One of us always ended up laying down a little lopsided; but it never mattered much to me, because his chest made for an excellent pillow. I remember feeling the vibrations from his vocal chords as his spread out, and down into my ears. Sometimes, I didn't even pay attention to what he was reading, I just let the deep, low, reverberations work their way through my body, and out my feet. If I ever chanced a look up, I would see my Dad's reading glasses. Half cut, little crescent moons, that let him read to me. Once he put those "specs" on, I was transported to other worlds. Namely, the wonderful universe of Redwall, with mouse warriors, and villainous weasels. When Dad yawned he still read, elongating the words, letting them slowly push their way out of his mouth. Dad still wears those glasses, just a little bit more often each year, and their not just for reading any more. Gone are the tales of rodent adventure, replaced by "Literary Classics". But, Dad's deep voice, and spacious yawns still remain. And maybe someday I'll have my own reading glasses, to slowly put on, and see the world through.