“The sun is out. The sky is blue, partially blue. How’s it where you are?” Maga asked, in 1,000% more words than she said to me last night.
“Same really. Lots of sunshine and blue skies. It’s about 65 degrees. It’s lovely.”
“Is it that warm here?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m in MA.”
“What day is today? Saturday or Sunday?”
“Actually, it’s Wednesday, but most days feel like Saturdays lately. Where are you sitting?”
“No, I’m at my desk.”
“Why aren’t you in your blue chair in the living room?”
“Because I like to look out the window. There’s not much traffic today.”
“I’d guess not since visitors aren’t allowed.”
“No. It’s awful.”
“But they’re doing it to keep you safe from all the germs,” I said.
“I know. I should appreciate it more, but it’s sort of a nuisance.”
Oops. My bad. I totally understand the annoyance of someone telling you what you already know!
“Well,” I said, “thank goodness for your windows.”
“Yes. Nice big ones.”
I snickered. I couldn’t help my juvenile sense of humor. Maga barreled on with the conversation.
“We’re in that terrible period where we don’t know the way forward.”
I was blown back by the clarity of her statement and could do no more than nod in agreement, as my juvenile sense of humor was promptly put on the shelf to make way for adulthood.
Abigail Mumford 