circle of life

1.

it’s christmas day and my three-year-old sister is crying. 
she will not take her nap. 
i’m crying too, even though we’ve just opened
presents. i need a nap.
she won’t stop begging to 
watch The Lion King. again. 

to the newcomers of earth, sleep is an obstacle
they can’t admit to enjoying. she sees adults
are awake. like her, i learn to be an adult 
by imitating them. 
at twenty-three, i learned i have the same slow, high pitched

chuckle as my father. now
i am trying to change my laugh. 
the three-year-old puts on 
her maman’s sunglasses, monopolizing
the real estate of her baby face. she turns around &
asks “how are you?” 
to everyone who passes by. 
the question is as heavy as
“can you feel the love tonight?”

2.
this is what adults do: shade our eyes & 
ask each other how we are. she does it with hand 
gestures, multiple times— for her the answer is imperative.  
& is a question that must be given thought. 

is this like the laugh? too busy
enjoying an imitation to bother becoming its own? 
we share the same father, but we have different 
mothers. she doesn’t know this yet. 

she has not realized that Mufasa dies
in The Lion King, and thinks that older Simba 
later in the film is Mufasa 
again. i tried explaining the circle of
life to her. it hasn’t clicked yet. 

she cackles when Mufasa falls from the cliff 
into the stampede & she’s 
unsure how Simba grows. when i tell 
her that’s Simba but older, she corrects me: no, clearly the larger animal
is the father, Mufasa. 
i would agree, but our father grew  
smaller every year i grew taller. 
i tell her i’m talking to my
mom on the phone, and she corrects me: of course, i’m
not talking to maman on the phone, 
she is right in front of us. 

3.
one day, she’ll find out scar killed Mufasa, &
that Simba lost his father and fled home, even though 
he couldn’t wait to be king. until then 
she’ll be singing
Hakuna Matata. 
no worries, but i worry 
about the day 
she asks me why we have different moms.
i worry more
about the day she understands why Scar kills Mufasa.
i hope she doesn’t change
her laugh.