It was a Saturday morning, her most favorite day of the week. Rising from her Minnie Mouse sheets and matching comforter, she padded across the carpet and peeked out of her bedroom door. To the left, she could noted that her sister's light was off and the faint sound of snoring was seeping through the crack under her door. Trying not to wake the sleeping princess- the little girl grinned at her own sarcasm- she tiptoed into the hallway and pressed an ear against her mother's door. Like the sun rising and the earth rotating, she could always count on that familiar jingle to start playing.
"Thank you for being a friend, traveling down the road and back again...." The little girl cracked open the door, pleased to feel the sunshine pouring in through the venetian blinds.
"Hey, possum-squally, what are you doing up so early?" Her mother greeted the girl, who just shrugged. Truthfully, she never understood why she always woke up early on Saturdays. It didn't seem like an odd thing to her, though. Her mother scooted over in the large, white bed, making room for her daughter. Her mother's hand patted the bed, moving over her cup of coffee so it wouldn't spill. The little girl smiled softly and made her way onto the comfy ivory expanse. Once there, she snuggled up next to her mother's form and her eyes found the familiar tiny TV screen that sat atop the wooden wardrobe. Dorothy, Sophia, and Rose sat at the kitchen table, discussing wrinkles and lovers over a plate of cheesecake, as Blanche sashayed her way through the swinging door, clad in a glittery flowing gown.
The little girl and her mother laughed along with the program until commercial breaks would bring them back to the real world. During this time, they would chat over plans for the day, Aunt Barb's new car, and other things of that nature. Some time when Will & Grace was playing, the eldest daughter would plow into the room, always hogging the right side of the bed. The daughters would throw one leg onto their mother's own, grinning as she exclaimed they were too heavy, but she always left them there. With Lifetime movie previews playing in the background and the smell of freshly roasted coffee under their noses, the three women would lay in peaceful ambiance, for there were no words needed to speak. These women did not require speech to communicate: a capture of the eye and a corner smile would do the trick.
The three girls would lie in their golden glory, united by hearts and backscratches. These moments or thirty minutes or any instants they wished would last and last were what it was all about. And maybe they didn't last, maybe they were shattered in just a few short years, but then again, all good things must come to an end. There was only one truth about this life that really mattered and it was this: it was happening. Right then, as the three golden girls lay in the supple semblance of life, and every moment afterwards.
-She Gave me this Cactus in a Coffee Can
Kaila Nicole
