Lines and Walls

Once upon a time a little boy realized one morning that a spoon, the same spoon he had been using forever, was smaller. He looked at the bowl. It was smaller, too.
"You’re growing," his mother smiled.

In his bedroom, the two-year-old boy stared at the wall.
He pushed his nose against it and made a mark.
The next morning, nose and mark still matched.

Mother had the boy stand against the wall and carefully drew a line aligned with the top of his head.
She dated the line.

Dated lines climbed his bedroom wall.
Most of his friends started lines in their rooms.
All marks climbed the walls until they stopped.
They disappeared under the paintbrushes of new owners or parents converting bedrooms to guestrooms.

When he had a daughter, with boyish enthusiasm he stood his little girl against the wall.
Over the years he would look at her dated lines. He liked drawing the lines on the wall.
Her lines too stopped and disappeared under the paintbrushes of new owners.

One night he realized he was still drawing lines on walls.
Everything was so much clearer back then.