And a Good Morning to You As Well - 9.28.2006

At 7:03 AM, mom trots past my bedroom door with a pair of long flaming logs that she has removed from the stove. She waves them around vigorously under the lines of clean laundry - one blazing sword in each hand - but the flames won´t go out. So, she lays them on the concrete floor of our courtyard and splashes a bit of water on them from the wash basin. Within seconds, there is smoke everywhere.

I have stopped, and I have dropped, but I have not yet rolled when she cheerily hollers for me to come get my breakfast.