Smells Like Sunday

We all have our own way of ordering our world. Each of us has secret code in our heads that allow us to figure out where we are fitting that moment into the greater spin that earth is in.

As a child, I had some strange ways of figuring out language. (Maybe I’m a little more like Colin that I realize). Nouns were the most important letters in our alphabet. Letter “E” was king and should begin each word. After that, each noun, in the order that they appeared originally. Then, the bad consonants in the order they appeared in each word. This drove my mother crazy since I would ride in the back seat of the car mindlessly spelling words on the billboards as we would pass. Only, I was doing my “thing” with them. Finally I had to explain it to her (and SILLY her for not figuring it out on her own.) I think I was four.

For example: “Restaurant” is really spelled “eauarstrnt”. The word “house” is “eouhs”. “Beetlejuice” should read “eeeeuibtljc” (that was a fun one!).

I also believed that all dogs were boys and cats were girls.

Mondays were blue, Tuesdays were yellow, Wednesdays were green, Thursdays…red. Friday? Green again. Saturday was black and Sunday was purple. That still holds true sometimes if I don’t stop myself.

A few weeks ago, I was walking Erin and Colin to the school bus stop. It’s only about a two-minute walk. We hold hands and talk about what the day holds because if Colin doesn’t know what to expect, then he’s really anxious.

The day wasn’t hot or cold. No rain, no sun, just sort of an average fall day. It was a Wednesday morning and nothing special was going on in our neighborhood that day.

“It smells like Sunday, Mommy.”
“Yes, it’s Wednesday, but it smells like Sunday.”

He actually stopped and looked around for a while. Whatever he was looking for wasn’t there, but his nose could pick it up. Maybe someone was burning a fire, maybe there was a roast in an oven, maybe no one will ever know what it was.

“Okay, it smells like Sunday. Is that okay?”
“Um, yeah, I guess.”

He walked a little slower to the bus that morning…looking around him the whole time as if anticipating something new. Like, maybe we should be getting ready for church instead.

I’m okay with Sunday having a smell, dude. As long as it’s okay with you that I think it’s purple!


1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. beinganddoing
    Dec 06, 2009 @ 09:33:47

    Beautiful! Has Colin ever mentioned seeing sound? We should celebrate these unique abilities.



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