atomic mama

Cooper and I head outside into the dark morning together every day upon waking up. I’m usually in my bathrobe. She trots out onto the back lawn and does her business while looking at me with her big beautiful eyes. I’m a little cranky until she flashes me her I’m-such-a-good-puppy-mama-see? look, and then I’m generally happy to be outside, in the rain, waiting for my dog to poo. Which she does up to FOUR TIMES in the morning. All I can think of is that the poo is in a different state when inside her body. Perhaps like that of a neutron star. Because without electron degeneracy I have no idea how all that poo fits inside that dog.

But enough about poo. On to country music!

I’m proud to say, much to her father’s horror, Miss Min likes bluegrass. I think Shane had pictured himself and Lina, reclined in their leather chairs, sipping martinis, making fun of Mama’s hillbilly ways. But that will not come to pass. Instead, he will have to find refuge in his man-cave when the banjo starts a-playin’.

Though the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration recommends against this, I listen to bluegrass while operating a motor vehicle. As Lina and I drive to school, we can often be found clapping, singing, and generally dancing as much as our respective safety restraints allow. I can see her pigtails swaying back and forth in my rear-view mirror, which I consider to be one of my favorite sights of all time. It cracks me up when I look at the scene with a little objectivity and see us: a Dutch-Indonesian mama and her Chinese daughter, having a veritable hoedown during our fifteen-minute ride to school every morning. And I like to think that this is the kind of scene that represents America to me. Possibilities. Probabilities. My own little dream come true.

This entry was posted on Friday, February 9th, 2007 at 07:26 and is filed under stephanie. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.