Sour Cream Face

I remember . . .

All of the family gathered

In the big, white house;

A house with a

Wrap-around porch.

I remember . . .

Happiness and laughter and love

And rejoicing and celebration

I remember . . .

Not enough beds,

Relatives lying on sleeping bags,

Couches, porches

I remember . . .

Being too old for a crib,

But having to sleep

In one that weekend.

I remember . . .

A snotty older cousin standing

By the crib

In the morning,

Chanting, “Good morning, Baby.”

I remember  . . .

Wanting to  poke

Her in the eye,

But I would get in trouble

For that, so instead

I remember . . .

Pouring salt in her glass

Of TANG, and

I remember . . .

Her sour cream face crying

I remember . . .

Laughing so hard

That milk bubbled in my nose

I remember . . .

That big, white house, the crib,

The laughter, the TANG,

And salt

And I remember . . .

winning

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