Outside, the thick scent of orange blossoms is being cut by laser blasts.
I’m inside with my cold coffee, a mellow puddle of milky brown. I listen to the wind chimes in the May breeze, and the gardener’s edger hums with dog bark punctuation marks in the distance. There’s a pirate house in my back yard, and I clutch my coffee desperately. Everyone knows you need coffee if you have a pirate house in the back yard…especially when the pirates own laser guns.
Everyone is shouting. It sounds like a battle and I’m out of bananas. I have loud boys and laser guns, I have orange blossoms and old coffee.
The things I took for granted are up for debate, and I never know what I’m talking about.
“Mom, how do you spell mat?”
I smile because I think I know the answer. I say, “What makes an ‘mmmmm’ sound?”
And he’s right and I throw the alphabet out the window.
I would have given you a different answer yesterday, but today if you ask me why I believe in the God of the bible, I will tell you it’s because of orange blossoms and cows that make the mmmm sound.