Tamara and I were at Walmart with the intention of buying eggs
to make a brand new 6 year old some cupcakes to share with her
class.
As we walked our way through the store, the milk we'd previously
made a B line for seemed farther now than it did only a few days
earlier.
We'd made it. The cold milk was in Tamara's hand as I looked out
to our next destination; the purpose of the venture.
The eggs laid quiet, ready to be examined and taken for the soul
purpose of the pleasure of an old 5 year old.
We walked.
As our quest began to draw to an end, we walked a little too close to
an aisle where a woman lay waiting and screamed with a passion never
before seen at the hour at hand "Fact: Your soap pump Will harbor Bacteria."
At our alarm, our final destination was only made that much more clearer.
The Checkout.
We'd finished our excursion and headed back home.
The sun peaked over the mountain vividly exclaiming its excellence as we
drove, our backs to him as though bitterness plagued our hearts.
Then, we were home.
We took our store bought booty and headed for our house when I cried out
to Tamara "keep going! Don't slow down. You can make it my love."
She immediately recognized this tired tone as sarcasm and began to wait.
Little did she know I spoke with the same seriousity as the pope proclaiming
new heresies as fact.
When we made it through the door; the thoughts of this morning were
resonating in my mind as we began to place our things in their rightful place.
As Tamara began the cupcakes for the eager 5 year old, I thought in my own
head "It's too early for music" as I unplugged the I-Pod deck to make room for
the plug in adapter for my lap top.
By the time I'd made it to this point in my entry, Tamara had already finished
the first batch.
Upon our attempt of the 2nd, the unthinkable happened.
You may think that the oven exploded, but no, you thought of that.
We ran out of mix.
Tamara and I pulled into the parking lot of Walmart and proceeded to the cupcake
aisle and purchased all 197 cents of the merchandise we needed to please the
aspiring 6 year old.
Upon our exit, it felt as though Father Winter bit his lip and pushed out the
coldest gust of wind he could for our demise. There was a scream of frustration
and fatigue. It is still uncertain to whom that scream belonged.
When the buns were in the oven, we waited and we rested.
We kissed each other gently, like two lovers who have yet to brush their teeth,
for this is what we were.
The morning went on and we gradually woke up.
And as my blogging digressed, I penned this last note...
The cupcakes will be a success. This morning will not be in vain.This day will be remembered for years to come, marked down
in History as the day Ming Reu (Roy) turned 6.
Until this website has reached it's end, readers from around the
zip code will be able to read the story of the cup cakes for the
girl who turned 6 today. Happy Birthday Ming.
We wish you the best in class today. Learn what we could not
teach you.
-Joshua Romero
