Where’s the reset button?

Things get weird sometimes. There’s so many unanswered questions, too many thoughts in the middle of the night and sometimes we just can’t get away. So for a few months a journey began in quest of some reset. Work was daunting and taking up more time than I cared to give. School took a mental toll on me. I was tired. So I stopped looking and just tried to continue on.

The reset came on Thursday afternoon in the form of a little chocolate ball of joy. Tender 3months old, smelling like enfamil. Old enfamil. Me, three crown apples deep with a mustard dress, open in the back to show the curvature of my spine. Short hair, dark lips, holding a baby on my hip with one arm, like a teenage mother with an attitude while my crown was resting in my other hand. The decision was made to give this baby a bath in the bathroom sink. It’s been years since I’ve had to deal with a baby, but it just came back so naturally, like I’m just out here raising babies or something and bathing them. Oh, but the way that baby looked at me as I turned on the water, I haven’t laughed that hard in so long. He was like a slippery ass fish, fresh out the water trying to understand its surroundings. He had just discovered his feet and he was using them. That baby is everything to me. I’ve been waiting, patiently waiting to have that spark back. To have that good soulful laugh. It was perfect. It was everything.

The reset button was hidden in a child. Underneath warm waters and soap suds, I found something. Something so simple, so simple, made me feel that warmth again.

Nothing is ever as powerful as the innocence of a baby. Nothing has made me laugh the way I did with that child.


It’s nothing short of irony that this Thursday I found my reset button was Thanksgiving Day.

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