Cantaloupe Hoarding Collies

I always giggle when I think of the word – which is really ironic.  Roll brain film:  A bunch of sheep smiling and quietly munching down on some bright green grass in the background while the sheep-chasing dogs in the foreground are devouring cantaloupe.  Beautiful peachy-orange colored fruit juice drips from their tongues as the collies roll around in some sort of ambrosia induced ecstasy = melancholy.  Thinking of the word makes me not.

So everybody kept asking me what was the matter today – friends, teachers, even the bus driver said that something must be wrong because I wasn’t causing a ruckus (his word – he’s kind of a goofy old tree-hugger type guy).  He was right.  I just felt – I don’t know – bummed.  And the more everybody bugged me about it the more bummed I got.  I just wanted to scream at them to leave me alone because I didn’t have an answer for them.  So then I was bummed and ticked.

So I stared at the splattered bug guts on the window while the unfocused outside rolled past.  The first seat – right behind Mr. Maybre – nobody ever sat there.  Everybody left me alone.  It was a bummer that the poor bug’s life ended smooshed into the glass of a bright yellow bus.  I wonder if it hurt.  It was a bummer that I failed yet another spelling test.  I wonder if the stupid letters will ever be able to get from my head through my pen in the right order.  It was a bummer that Jesse spilled red paint all over my drawing in Art.  I wonder if she’ll ever stop apologizing.  It was a bummer that we had tuna for lunch again today.  I wonder if we’re all going to turn into slimy fish.  It was a bummer that I ripped my favorite jeans diving for the base.  I wonder if I’ll go down in the history of the school – “the winning point that ripped the sound barrier!”  It was a bummer that I wasn’t on Kyle’s team.  I wonder he was disappointed or if he hates me.

Mr. Maybre winked as I trudged down the steps.

Mrs. Tanner shrugged as I turned down a ride home.  It wasn’t raining – at least not on the outside.

I opened the door and stopped dead in my tracks.  It washed over me, melting me into a comfortable ooze – the unmistakable, incredible, wonderful, awesome smell of chili.  The bummers evaporated, making room for the luscious wafts of beans, ground beef, chili powder, onions, tomatoes, and garlic bubbling quietly on the back of the stove.

“Ms. Baskette called and said you were a bit melancholy today.”

The florescent light of the fridge glistened on the crunchy smooth bowl of coleslaw.

Cinnamon Rolls lay hidden under a tea-towel rising to plump perfection.

“Shred Cheese” was second on my chore list (right after “Hug your mother.”  Moms are so goofy.)

It’s kind of weird that all my comfort food starts with C.

“Chili with cheese, coleslaw, and cinnamon rolls 

chase away 

cantaloupe hoarding collies.”  

Film at 11:00!