On a good morning, it takes me considerable time to wake up. My corporeal form may rise from my bed and begin gadding about at 8:00, but it is fueled not by conscious thought but rather involuntary muscle movements and instinct. I don’t actually achieve consciousness some time after that.
I bring this up because the event that typically serves as my mind’s alarm clock is the voice of my wife piercing the air, usually shouting out my name in tandem with some request.
This morning, I had just started doing some house cleaning when I heard the voice. “BRIAN! CAN YOU MAKE COFFEE?”
What made this time different, however, was the voice I heard next.
“NI-YAN!!!” it screeched. “NI-YAN!!!”
A smile spread across my face as I realized what Miles was doing. “Is he…is he saying my name like you say my name?” I asked, emerging from the room. “Like, kind of shrieking it at me? That’s so precious!”
“That’s not what it sounds like!” Jaclyn said defensively.
Miles and I just exchanged smiles. He’s young, but I can already tell he has my back.