Let Your Love Flow
I walked out of my childhood bedroom. Dad stood in the room across the hall.
Door wide open.
Toilet seat up.
Peeing into the pitcher Mom makes him use to keep him from spraying the whole bathroom every time he goes. He looked up from his business and smiled at me.
“Don’t leave before I get to hug you bye, Andra.”
I ran away from that brain-scarring scene, part-of-where-I-came-from on display and everything, and hightailed it for the door. “YOU’RE NOT TOUCHING ME UNLESS YOU WASH YOUR HANDS, DAD!!!!” The words echoed in the front room when I plowed into Mom.
“What? What are you talking about, Andra? What has Roy done now?”
I told her. The open bathroom door. Dad doing number one. The desired hug.
While Dad lumbered out of the bathroom with his fly unzipped and his arms wide, Mom stood there and laughed until she couldn’t breathe. I ducked Dad’s attempted hug and focused on Mom. “What’s wrong with you??”
“I laughed so hard……..I think I wet my pants.”
I hope Number One is part of letting your love flow……..because I have it all over me right now. Isn’t March going to be a scream, Dear Reader?