Soaring High

When I was little, my mother would lay on her back and lift me in the air.
I’d spread my arms, and pretend I was a a jet airplane.
“ZOOOOOOOOOOM!” said my mother.
“ZOOOOOOOOOOM!” I repeated. “I’m an airplane!”
“Now flap your arms,” my mother said. “You’re a bird. A big bird.”
I’d flap my arms and pretend I was a bird, flying high in the air.
And then…
“Put me down!” I’d shout. “Put me down.”
So, my mother lowered me to the ground.
Then I ran into the garage, dropped my pants, and shit on the car’s windshield.

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