Why Is The Sky Blue?

7:00 am.

It's a beautiful sunny day, with chirping birds and big billowing clouds. I look to my left, the curtains are open wide with warm rays spilling onto my face. To my right, Patrick Dempsey and his McDreamy smile holding a glass of fresh~squeezed orange juice, asking if I need anything before he goes into surgery. I just smile and close my eyes.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm is so loud that I sit straight up in bed wondering where I am. With bride of frankenstein hair, and obvious morning breath, I look to the left. Outside, my dreams of warm sunshine have faded to a dull grey, and the rain begins to beat onto the window. To the right, my son standing there staring at me, as though it's the first time we've met.
"Mom! What are you doing?! I called you like ten times!"
"Huh? Wha-hmm.. Oh, okay."
"I said, I'm hungry!"
I close my eyes one more time, hoping to escape back to McDreamy land, where alarm clocks don't exist.
"Mom!"
I slap myself awake, and slowly rise. It's freezing, and there are beds to be made, clothes to be put on, and teeth to be brushed. My son giggles.
"Oh yeah, and look what Emma did."
I look down to see my two year old standing in a puddle, with toilet paper draped around her like a mummy.
"Hi Mama!"
I give a hopeful glance back at my bed, knowing that if I crawl in right now, it would still be warm.
I quickly snap back to reality.
I clean up the baby, throw some bread in the toaster that only works when it wants to, and turn on the coffee maker to heat up last night's coffee. (Don't judge.)
I get my son dressed, toss him a vitamin and make an attempt at wetting his poor colic~stricken head. (They are everywhere!)
"Mom, why is the sky blue? And why does the earth spin? And why...."
These are obvious questions that an eight~year old asks at 7:15 in the morning right?
"Well honey, you see the sky is blue because when God created earth, it was like building a house. And when you build a house, you have to paint the walls right?" he just smiles, knowing that I am completely making this up.
"Well, God was mixing his paint one day, and accidentally tripped and knocked over the blue paint. Then He said, "Hmm, I like this color. This will be the sky." "The end."

He laughs."Mom! That's not true. It's the ......" he goes on to give me the scientific facts as to why the sky is blue. Oh well, my daughter believes me.
I start to get her dressed, brushing her fluffy blonde hair, and washing her little cherub face. Maybe this one will stay little forever.
"Mom!" my son comes into the room, arms crossed.
"You didn't tell me why the earth turns!"
Ah, of course. Hmm. Why the earths turns....yes!
"Well, you know how your little globe spins on it's stand? Well just think of the earth as a giant globe. Put your shirt on and have a nice day."
"But Moooooommmm!"
I run for the coffee maker. The old stale coffee is semi~warm, and sludge~like. Oh well. I add a ton of coffee creamer and gulp it down quickly. I glance at the clock. Time is passing awfully slow today.
I gaze into the toxic brown~black stuff in my coffee mug. Just do it. Drink it!
It's almost time for the bus. Much to my son's delight, I throw on my husband's old boots and a corduroy jacket as we head out into the freezing fall air. "Mom, why does...."
I gulp the last of my coffee, take a deep breath, and respond.
"Pumpkins are orange because..." "And leaves fall from trees because..."
"Okay Mommy." then he is silent, and apparently satisfied with my answers.
"Here comes the bus!" I get so excited, I find myself jumping up and down as my son looks at me with a strange fear that his mother may be going crazy. Then suddenly, I don't want him to go. I miss him already.
So, what do I do?
That's right.
I run after him in my big old boots and silly coat, my disheveled hair blowing in the breeze, and I give him the biggest, most exaggerated kiss in front of all of his friends. "I love you bub."
"Awww Mom! Knock it off. You're soooo embarrassing!"

I wave slowly as the bus rides away. I can't help but feel a little twinge of sentiment as I silently wish he were just a little boy again, hobbling around on his little baby legs, calling me Mama and being absolutely enchanted by something as simple as the stars. I close my eyes for a moment, and smile thinking of days gone by.

He used to eat all of his vegetables then, too. Now I can't even get him to look at a piece of corn.