“Do you know Gawd?”
Arched back, hands on hips, lips puckered, the question comes from knee high, completely out of the blue. I look down at his upturned face.
A light saber pulsates in his hand with Darth Vader’s ragged breathing.
He’s only three, but he pronounces Gawd like the great-grandfather he never knew. The same awe, deep throated distinction separates that word from all other words. And I love it because…
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