August 2001.

Dad, Mom and I went to Ikea
to prepare for your arrival.

Dad and I got meatballs,
Swedish meatballs.

The Swedish meatballs tasted like sawdust and foreboding.

--

September 2001.

The towers fell.
I knew I had to protect you. 

I started learning Kung Fu
to keep the boogeyman away.

He's never come close to either of us.

--

October 2001. 

You were tiny,
insignifiant to the world.

Yet you are huge,
important to me.

Your birth marked a new age.

--

August 2014.

Dad, Mom, You, and I
will go to Ikea.

I will leave you,
but I will still protect you.

This feeling tastes like Swedish meatballs.