one potato two potato

Some time in the spring a door to door type asked me as part of his schpiel, "How many kids do you have?" This can be an amazingly difficult question to answer.

"I have two." The response came unbidden to my lips. And then I died a little.

Moo was upstairs napping.

When had my answer changed? Who gave it permission to? It seems like the kind of thing I should be consulted about. Apparently it was already real. She was leaving. The fact had been absorbed into my psyche without my being aware of the change.

......


Today at the grocery store I got my favorite cashier. She's nice and twinkly and she makes good conversation. The first time I went through her line I ended up giving her my hot chocolate recipe. Today she was discussing Eggplant Parmesan with the fellow ahead of me who was purchasing a giant pot and pound upon pound of Roma tomatoes.

"Looking at you makes my heart smile," she said to Enz as he peered at her over the counter. "It's just like seeing one of my own boys little again." she told him.

"Do you have more children?" she asked me after we discussed my plans for the two dozen pint jars and six bags of chocolate chips I'd just purchased. "yes," I said. "I have...more."

Then winking at Enzo and said "Are you going to help your mom? I bet you'll be a big help during your nap time!" and to me she added, "Grandma's know these things." I ask you friends, is it not obvious why she's my favorite?

.....

The question's become something of an ambiguity again. There are the two constant of course, then the one inside looming. Not changing the number quite yet, but making it necessary to tack on "and one on the way" in circumstances where my abdomen is in full view. Then there's the other one, the one who as of two weeks ago is mine again. Though paperwork, and approvals and travel dates still need to be attended to before she can reenter the family in the flesh.

The short of it is: Moo is coming back home.