The Moon Is A Taco And Other Things

I am clearing up the crumbs from breakfast when Pattu’s clear voice calls out to me from beyond the patio door. I take my time, finishing up what I am doing before I walk. She holds up her boogie board, a line drawing that looks suspiciously like an advertisement for a fast food chain.

“That’s the moon,” she says, pausing for effect before continuing “as a taco.”

I nod approvingly, handing out compliments so glibly one would think I have had years of practice. Then I pause, take the board from her hand and ask her why she was drawing the moon mid morning. She reaches for my hand, pulls me to the center and points skyward to a half-moon that is a shadow of its glorious self.

“If you look at it this way, it looks like a taco!”

I take a photo of her picture dutifully and walk back inside knowing she just imparted a life lesson to me but not clear what it actually was.

Last evening I lay on the couch after a late lunch and all three girls took turns sitting on me and bouncing. Touching a particularly jiggly spot, Pattu tells Laddu “this is where you came from.” Laddu now clearly intrigued decides to explore her former home from the outside leading to uncontrollable mirth all around. Once the laughter died down, Ammu tells me “you know Laddu looks like you when you were a little girl.”

The conversation goes on to explore features, genetics and mannerisms. We talk about their birth family. We talk about how some things are inherited and some things are acquired. Just when I think we have had a deep conversation Pattu says something funny and just like that we veer away into potty humor.

Sometimes, the moon does look like a taco. Conversations I deem are difficult turn out to be easy. Normal is boring. A fun weekend is bouncing on amma’s tummy. Being a SAHM is just another decision not a statement representing all women.

Perhaps, that is what Pattu was trying to tell me. Things are not what they are. We read too much into things. We agonize over relationships that peter out. We plan our lives around hypotheticals.

It may be the moon. It can be a taco too.

2 thoughts on “The Moon Is A Taco And Other Things

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