I am pushing the stroller over city sidewalk.
We bumble through discarded cups.
“The earth is our mother.”
Why did I just say that?
“She gives us a place to live, food to eat, water to drink.”
Four year old ears listen to everything.
She chews on my words with her teeth.
She tastes something fishy.
“If the earth is our mother, who is our father?”
Damn! Keep pushing, keep moving, keep talking.
“The Sun! He keeps us warm, he gives us energy. And light!”
I am a genius. It’s all wrapped up in a neat package.
The wheels rattle and I scan for bumps in the concrete to avoid.
She spits it out. It tasted ok, but something in the texture was off.
“I don’t think the earth is our mother.”
I swerve to avoid hitting the tracksuit in front of me.
“It’s not? What do you think it is?”
When in doubt, turn the question around.
“It’s a planet.”
Shit. She’s good.
“A planet is a planet.”
The wheels continue to rattle in my head.
Thank goodness we’re almost there.
NaPoWriMo 2013: Day 2