How my mind works

"We believe in the Holy Spirit, the Lord, the giver of life, who proceeds from the Father..."

I take several long swallows of milk while staring down, absorbed in the memorization of the Nicene Creed for the quiz tomorrow. My idle hand drifts to peanut butter toast, lifts it to my lips, and I chew off one side of the crust. A distracted mind becomes enrapt in earlier happenstance. I had placed Robin Hood in the DVD player before my mom came ambling in. I imagined her as an ape, staring down her Barbary nose with cusped lips while gesticulating widely into the air with her orangutan arms. Toast down, glass tilts back, milk empties into my mouth. Her eyes would grow round and her lips would pucker like a disgruntled chimpanzee. "Lost, lost," she would hoot from beyond those thick lips. Sputter, snort, aw, shit. Milk shot up my nasal passages, stifled my nose and drizzled down my upper lip. Up the stairs, grappling Kleenex, meander back down to spot Duchess slurping up the last piece of my toast which I had prudently sculpted into a star fish with my teeth.

Disappointment replaced humor, but sensibility honed my malcontent, and I sat back down to continue memorizing the Nicene Creed.