his horse.
I’m not sure why I liked it so much, but when she finished singing it, I’d say, “Sing it again. Grandma.”
She usually had to sing it five or six times before I would fall asleep. I heard her singing it to Belly the other day.
Grandma doesn’t let Dad close the curtains until it is pitch-black outside.
“I don’t want to miss anything,” she says to Dad.
Grandma says that summer is her favorite time of year. She used to have a flower garden that was full of peonies, roses, and lavender. It was in her garden where Grandma taught mehow to use the bathroom outside. I was three years old, and she said that anytime I was in her garden and had to go, I should just stop where I was and pee. I peed on her peonies. I peed on her tulips. I peed in her birdbath. Then Grandma told me that she preferred it if I just peed in the dirt. I liked to go to the bathroom outside better than I did inside. Whenever I was watching television with India and had to use the restroom, I’d run outside and go off the back porch, instead of running down the hall to the toilet. This ended when Mom took me to the flower shop and I got confused. I thought I was outside and ended up peeing in a vase of calla lilies.
Mom has never been back to that store.
Grandma misses her garden. She talks about it all the time. Uncle Max brought over all her old gardening books and photographs of her gardens from many years ago. In one of them she’s standing next to a huge yellow rosebush. Mom is standing next to her. Mom looks like Belly, except her hair is brushed, there isn’t dirt on her face, and she’s wearing a shirt. Grandma looks like Mom does now, like she smells like tea and sandalwood.
One day the manny said he was going to take us to the nursery.
“We’re a little old for the nursery, aren’t we?”I asked, trying to talk the way that Lulu does.
“Not a baby nursery, dodo,” said Lulu. “A plant nursery.”
“I know. I was just joking,” I said.
But I wasn’t.
The manny had come up with a brilliant plan, or at least that’s what Dad said. We were going to transform the backyard into a beautiful flower garden for Grandma to look out of her window at. Even Lulu liked the idea, but she said that she had thought of it first, she just hadn’t said it out loud.
Right now the backyard has our old rusted swing set and a big tractor-tire sandbox in it. We can’t play in the sandbox because all the neighborhood cats use it as a communal litter box. We discovered this when Belly came into the house one afternoon smelling like cat poop. Mom made her take a bath for an hour and then cleaned the tub with Clorox when she was done.
At the nursery the manny let us pick out flats of flowers and a huge pot to take care of as our very own. Lulu picked something called chocolate cosmos because they smelled like and were the same color as chocolate. India picked daisies. She said that daisies were like “sunshine growing out of the dirt.” Belly picked out yellow marigolds. I thought they were ugly, but theyended up living longer than any of the other flowers. I picked petunias. I hate the name, but I think that they are very pretty. They are Mom’s favorite, too.
When we were finished picking out our own flowers, we walked through the aisles choosing flowers and plants for Grandma’s garden. We picked lilies, a hydrangea, lavender, peonies, rosemary, mint, and a rosebush with yellow roses. The manny held up a bunch of hollyhock plants behind him like a peacock tail and cawed at the top of his lungs. The other shoppers moved to a different aisle and made sure their children were close to them.
The cashier rang it all up, and the manny used Uncle Max’s credit card to pay for it. Uncle Max had sold a painting and wanted to be a part of our Grandma’s Garden Surprise plan. He couldn’t come with us, so he gave the manny his credit card. I watched how well the manny wrote Uncle Max’s signature. He had beautiful
I’m not sure why I liked it so much, but when she finished singing it, I’d say, “Sing it again. Grandma.”
She usually had to sing it five or six times before I would fall asleep. I heard her singing it to Belly the other day.
Grandma doesn’t let Dad close the curtains until it is pitch-black outside.
“I don’t want to miss anything,” she says to Dad.
Grandma says that summer is her favorite time of year. She used to have a flower garden that was full of peonies, roses, and lavender. It was in her garden where Grandma taught mehow to use the bathroom outside. I was three years old, and she said that anytime I was in her garden and had to go, I should just stop where I was and pee. I peed on her peonies. I peed on her tulips. I peed in her birdbath. Then Grandma told me that she preferred it if I just peed in the dirt. I liked to go to the bathroom outside better than I did inside. Whenever I was watching television with India and had to use the restroom, I’d run outside and go off the back porch, instead of running down the hall to the toilet. This ended when Mom took me to the flower shop and I got confused. I thought I was outside and ended up peeing in a vase of calla lilies.
Mom has never been back to that store.
Grandma misses her garden. She talks about it all the time. Uncle Max brought over all her old gardening books and photographs of her gardens from many years ago. In one of them she’s standing next to a huge yellow rosebush. Mom is standing next to her. Mom looks like Belly, except her hair is brushed, there isn’t dirt on her face, and she’s wearing a shirt. Grandma looks like Mom does now, like she smells like tea and sandalwood.
One day the manny said he was going to take us to the nursery.
“We’re a little old for the nursery, aren’t we?”I asked, trying to talk the way that Lulu does.
“Not a baby nursery, dodo,” said Lulu. “A plant nursery.”
“I know. I was just joking,” I said.
But I wasn’t.
The manny had come up with a brilliant plan, or at least that’s what Dad said. We were going to transform the backyard into a beautiful flower garden for Grandma to look out of her window at. Even Lulu liked the idea, but she said that she had thought of it first, she just hadn’t said it out loud.
Right now the backyard has our old rusted swing set and a big tractor-tire sandbox in it. We can’t play in the sandbox because all the neighborhood cats use it as a communal litter box. We discovered this when Belly came into the house one afternoon smelling like cat poop. Mom made her take a bath for an hour and then cleaned the tub with Clorox when she was done.
At the nursery the manny let us pick out flats of flowers and a huge pot to take care of as our very own. Lulu picked something called chocolate cosmos because they smelled like and were the same color as chocolate. India picked daisies. She said that daisies were like “sunshine growing out of the dirt.” Belly picked out yellow marigolds. I thought they were ugly, but theyended up living longer than any of the other flowers. I picked petunias. I hate the name, but I think that they are very pretty. They are Mom’s favorite, too.
When we were finished picking out our own flowers, we walked through the aisles choosing flowers and plants for Grandma’s garden. We picked lilies, a hydrangea, lavender, peonies, rosemary, mint, and a rosebush with yellow roses. The manny held up a bunch of hollyhock plants behind him like a peacock tail and cawed at the top of his lungs. The other shoppers moved to a different aisle and made sure their children were close to them.
The cashier rang it all up, and the manny used Uncle Max’s credit card to pay for it. Uncle Max had sold a painting and wanted to be a part of our Grandma’s Garden Surprise plan. He couldn’t come with us, so he gave the manny his credit card. I watched how well the manny wrote Uncle Max’s signature. He had beautiful
Similar Books
