I look at my mother and I can tell that she's happy. She's constantly moving, back and forth across the kitchen, humming and dancing and grinning. I'm sitting on the kitchen counter, licking the brownie batter out of the bowl, raw eggs, chocolate and all. I smear my hand all around the outside where the gooey brown stuff is stuck and put my hand in my mouth, licking and sucking. Everything is sticky and wonderful. I should be in school but Mom picked me up early, so I'm home. Caitlin is sitting on the kitchen floor playing with blocks and Alexia is sitting at the kitchen table coloring in a color book. Only I'm paying attention to Mom. She notices me and kisses my nose.
"How does it taste, Lory?" She can't stop moving. She steps side to side in front of me. I like this dance. I bounce along, swing my legs, give her a thumbs up with my left hand, the less messy hand.
"Yummy," I answer.
"Have some more," Mom says. There are four trays, all full of brownies. I think I've already had five brownies. I am going to get sick off of brownies, but when she hands me a baked brownie and takes away the bowl and the batter, I stick the brownie in my mouth and chew obediently.
I would do anything to make her happy.
