“That’s good eating right there, Miss Orange Juice in The Cereal.”
“That was one time.”
“And it was one time too many.”
“Says the woman who doesn’t like brownies?”
“The gooey middle is a texture issue!”
She threw her head back in laughter and it brought a smile to my face. I clenched my coffee mug as a giggle bubbled up the back of my throat, and when I released it, it took my whole body with it. I leaned forward and chuckled. It turned into a cackle that caused me to howl just to take a breath. And as my stomach started to strain itself from the hilarity of my mother’s snorting laughter, it was all we could do to stumble back to my bed just so we wouldn’t plummet to the floor.
And I suppose we were laughing so hard that we didn’t realize Dad had finished up with his morning chores.
“I hear a good time being had in here,” he said, tossing the front door open.
“Oh, my goodness!” Mom exclaimed, trying to catch her breath.
“I still don’t know how you do it.”
“I swear, we all have the weirdest quirks sometimes,” Mom said breathlessly.
Dad slipped out of his boots. “So, what’s got you girls all twisted up with laughter this morning?”
I stood to my feet. “You come sit, Dad. Let me get you some coffee.”
He pointed at me. “You, sit and rest. I can get myself a mug.”
I snickered. “Dad, it’s really not that big of a—”
He brushed past us and pinned me with a look. “Relax.”
I held up my free hand in mock surrender. “All right, all right, I know better than to argue.”
“We’re talking about the kind of quirks we all have,” Mom said as she polished off the rest of her coffee.
“Oh, you mean like how you always wear mismatched socks?”
I blinked. “Wait, what?”
Mom tisked as she rolled her eyes. “It’s just a little superstition Grandma taught me growing up. What’s the harm in that?”
Dad chuckled as he came back toward us with a piping hot mug of coffee clasped in his hands. “Don’t make me tell our daughter about the time you wore those mismatched knee-high socks on our fourth date.”
Mom smiled so brightly that it almost closed her eyes. “Says the man who carries around a bottle of hot sauce on his keychain.”
“I haven’t done that in years!”
“Because it gave you food poisoning! Exactly like I said it would.”
He leaned down from behind and kissed the top of her head. “Just consider it payback for making me walk you around the grocery store in mismatched knee-high socks.”
Rum-rum-rum-rum-rum-rum-rum.
“Dad,” I said as I stood from my seat.
I heard him putzing around in the kitchen. “I thought I told you to stay seated.”
Rum-rum-rum-rum-rum-rum-rum.
