Emerald Jealousy ...

(The curtain opens to a backyard scene. Emerald, four years old, is playing on the swings. Steve, the twenty nine year old mexican father, is impatiently taking the dog out potty. It isn't working. The dog is running around, digging, attacking his toes, barking, doing everything BUT going to the bathroom.)

EMERALD: Daddy?

STEVE: Yes honey?

E: I have a new friend at school, daddy!

S: Really? That's great. What's her name?

E: (sigh) It's a BOY, daddy!

S: (shocked) Really? Wow. Good job, Emerald! What's HIS name?

E: Tyler.

(silence)

S: Tyler? As in the Tyler that's been sitting next to you since the first day of school?

E: Yeah?

S: Well, honey, how is he suddenly your friend now?

E: (sighs) Well, we were in the playground at recess and we were swinging next to each other and I asked him if he would be my friend and he said YES! So he's my friend now!

Wow.

Can you believe that?

She's got a new friend. POOF! Just like that.

Damn. If only making new friends was that easy for me. I mean, I have a lot of acquaintances and thousands of anonymous followers scattered all over the world but the amount of really close, deep friends that I talk with and hang out with I could count on one hand, you know?

Things at work were a lot more comfortable for me when I worked with my wife. I miss having her working in the stacks with me. Work bullshit was a million times less stressful when I could walk a few steps and look at her beautiful face.

I miss her, the bookselling her.