"Memories are just where you laid them.
Drag the waters ’till the depths give up their dead.
What did you expect to find?
Was there something you left behind?
Don’t you remember anything I said when I said
Don’t fall away, and leave me to myself. . ." - Fuel
I rolled home on the return from dropping Fifteen for a Moment at the High School of Doom this morning, loudly singing the dismal tune to the dismal fog, ". . .And leave love bleeding in my hands again!" It inspired Pcola Lola, my border collie, to leave her spot at shotgun and jump into the back seat.
My headlights reflected in the soup and I eased into the driveway. "Uhhh, " I said to the dog, and threw it in park. The porch lights gave my front door a golden, almost unearthly glow. I literally walked out of my fog and into another world.
The kindergartener was at the table, gnawing on a pop tart. "I'm soooooooo excited, it's a PE day!!!!! What's for lunch, Mommy?"
"Well, let's check the menu. . ." I pirouetted to the fridge. "Girl, you are high cotton today! Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, mixed greens and cornbread. . .yum, yum! So, trayer or lunch boxer??"
"Oh, man, can it get any better? Trayer for sure!" She giggled. Five year olds are definitely funk-killers.
We took a couple of whacks at her hair, brushed her teeth, gathered the accesories and headed off for school. "Number nine, MOM!" she announced as she buckled her seatbelt.
Being the Wonder-Mom that I am, I had the CD cued for her, "Zippity doo dah, zippity - A !" We sang loudly and badly for four blocks.
Sometimes, when you repeat "My oh my, what a wonderful day!" enough, you start to believe it.
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