I go to the grocery store. I follow my whole list and check items off with my green pen as I go. Milk, check! Eggs, check! Strawberry frosted Pop-tarts, check! I smile at the cashier and she smiles back. I pay in exact change counting out the shiny coins one by one. 46 dollars and 22 cents. That leaves 153 dollars and 78 cents until mom sends more money next week.
I take the bus home. I sit next to a lady with a baby in her arms. I ask her what the baby’s name is and she turns away- oh well. The bus stops at 4th street. Now it will go two blocks forward and one block left before my stop on Christian Street. 56 Christian Street. That’s where I live. Green shutters and yellow door mat. Martha lives next store. She’s a therapist and wears bright pink lipstick like my mom but my mom smiles way more. She has nine cats. Harry, William, Diana, Charles, Beatrice, Philip, Camilla, Anne, and Edward, Eddy for short. There are three families that live down the street. 7 kids in total. 2 girls with red hair, 3 boys with brown hair and a boy with blonde hair. Sometimes I watch them play from my porch and they run down the sidewalk chasing each other, when they hit Martha’s mailbox, I wave at them and they don’t wave back. Instead they turn around and run back the way they came.
The bus stops and I get up, waving goodbye to everyone on the bus, especially the bus driver Ms. Sandy. I walk up to my door and put my tie-dye key in the hole to unlock the door. Pull the door and then push- it gets stuck in the frame sometimes. I put my keys on the hook I put up myself next to the front door. It took me 7 times before it was perfectly straight. I sent a picture to my mom when I finally got it right and she called me to say she was proud of me.  My clock says 12:45 and that means lunch time. My mom calls around 3 and always wants to know what I had for lunch so she knows I never skip it. I used to do that… forget to eat and watch T.V. instead. I start to put my groceries away in their perfect places. My mom put bright yellow labels in the cabinets and fridge so everything has its place… just how I like it.
While I place the cheese and butter into their homes I get really excited for a grilled cheese- cut into four little triangles. But then I see my basket of Annie’s mac and cheese boxes, peace parmesan, shells and white cheddar, bunny pasta with yummy cheese. That sounds really good. If I make a box of that I’ll have left overs. I love leftovers. Mom is coming for dinner this weekend and I was going to make grilled cheese then, with tomato soup because Mom likes that, but I could have it twice. But maybe it will be more special if I eat it once this week with her. But she comes every weekend. Mac and cheese means I get to clean the pot and I like cleaning. I just bought new dish soap from the brand Mrs. Meyers. My first grade teacher’s name was Mrs. Meyers... maybe she makes soap now. My eyes dart back and forth between the bread basket and the mac and cheese and I don’t know what to do.
My mind starts spinning, like a ballerina, over and over and over and over. I sit at the kitchen table and bang my fits on the wood screaming for the ballerina to stop. I grab the mac and cheese and try to open the box but I rip it too far down and the bunny shaped pasta explodes across my floor. Stupid ballerina, why can’t she stop spinning. I sit on the floor and close my eyes picturing myself with that ballerina. I’d grab her and pull her to the floor and hold her down so she can’t spin anymore. I take the Meyer’s dish soap and squeeze a little on to my finger. I draw shapes on the floor and hum a song I heard the ballerina dance to. I picture my first grade teacher, Mrs. Meyers, making soap.