I notice perhaps a small dot at bedtime

His eyelash line  
a bit darker in shadow, 
it is hard to tell, and it 
is bedtime, so let him 
sleep, I think, but in morning 
light, I see it is a tick. 
All summer, fighting them 
at every diaper change
and bath, and now, 
I say, hold still, sweetie, 
close your eyes, take 
my sterile tweezer precise 
to the edge of its bite 
and pinch. My little boy 
blinks, his clear brown eyes
say, you are good at that.