smashies...

every night before she falls asleep, esmé and i wrap our arms around each other so i can read her thoughts. my mind was elsewhere and i was hisspering way too much to close your eyes and get to sleep, mé! i could feel her tiny body tense, there was a pause, and then she covered her eyes and said I'M A HORRIBLE PERSON!

i just laughed.

she uncovered her eyes and asked did you read that thought?

i nodded. she gasped.

and you're not mad at me? she asked.

no. no way. i had the same exact thoughts when i was your age. i still do, sometimes.




i spent the next twenty minutes reassuring her of all the rotten thoughts that lived in my head at one point or another during my childhood. like, how i wished my mom and dad would die in a hot-pursuit car chase and starsky and hutch could adopt me at the scene of the crime. or the nights i begged whoever was in charge of these things to send my parents to the land of the lost. until they came back, i could be raised by the hardy boys. i dreamed of being rescued from my wonderful little farm girl life {which, since i had such silly allergies and couldn't go outside for long until the sneezing began, really was less farm and more wonderful.} by kings and queens, farrah faucet, liberace, the family on different strokes, and even by a troop of talking apes who were awesome cooks.

how do you stop those thoughts? she wondered.

hmmm. i don't think you can...i think they just race in like a dumb puppy and jump all over your other much more well-behaved thoughts. eventually, though, they grow up. slobber a lot less. roll over on command.

anyway, i told her i remember an afternoon where my mom had sat with me for what seemed like hours, just reading her book next to me while i played on the floor. and then, in my memories at least, she made me a banana smoothie. and i thought it couldn't get any better than that. not even with the drummonds.

long pause. a petite nod. blues like drowning stars. then a why don't you ever make me banana smoothies?




uhhh. they weren't exactly smoothies. they were just mashed-up bananas and maybe some milk? we didn't even have a blender, i bet. we were so poor that we couldn't even call them smoothies. we called them smashies.

didn't work. off to buy bananas today. even though she does not enjoy bananas. hey. have a smashie weekend, will you? wishing you a few days of good ingredients and not even one puppy thought. you take care of you. see you monday. first images that made my mind wander this morning, here and here. oh! and don't forget to throw your name in to the business card give-away. trust me...this company does great work. xoxo.