A Little Pea

Every week the sign was changed. “Only 6 weeks until Spring!” Five, four, three, two… I could resist no longer, and stumped my dun boots, thick winter coat and pale face into a local outlet of Paradise. 1

Mingled scents of sweet flowers and damp, rich soil wafted from flats of pansies, primroses, and potted daffodils displayed on fragrant new redwood tiers. Flower faces looked cheerfully about for the lucky soul whose yard they would grace. I fingered the bills in my pocket. I could get one of the pansy 6-packs, and still have enough to buy the seeds I had come for. I searched until I found one that called my name more loudly than the rest, then moved on to the seed section. The bulk seeds were the most economical, from which I selected brown paper bags of peas, beets, and carrots. The wait in line didn’t seem long, as every lungful drawn in here felt newly alive.2

I got my purchases to the car, and thought I would make a restroom run, but promptly changed my mind when the dashboard clock lit up. Late again! 3

And I knew darn well that a very impatient teenager would be waiting at home for the family car. She had most ungraciously agreed that I might take it, as long as I had it back by a certain minute she expected it to be available for her activities. 4

I rushed directly home, pulled around the corner in our subdivision, and was frankly surprised not to see said daughter standing on the front porch with a large timepiece and look of fury. I pulled into the drive, and weakly hoped that she might not even be aware that I was at least five minutes later than agreed.5

I hopped out of the car and went to the passenger side to retrieve my goods. There was a small hole in one of the bags, and a little pale green pea had escaped onto to seat. I was suddenly overwhelmed with an irresistible impulse.6

Setting the garden things down on the lawn, I ran up the steps as my firstborn child swung the door open. I shame-facedly explained, “I knew you were waiting, so I didn’t stop even though I really needed to ‘go’. I’m so sorry, but there’s a little pea on the front seat. I’ll get a paper towel and clean it up. It will only take a moment!”7

“Mother! That is so gross! How could you do this to me?!? You knew I was leaving right away!” She turned, a black cloud with lightning bolts, and thundered down the steps as I came running back out with my paper towel. 8

She swung open the car door and stood there, wordlessly looking at the seat. I came up behind her, and looking over her shoulder noticed that not only one, but two peas had escaped! I exclaimed, “Oh dear! There’s twice as much as I thought!” She silently moved aside, and I picked up my escapees with the paper towel. She didn’t even look at me as she stalked to the driver's side and got in. I closed the passenger door, and collapsed onto the lawn in gales of laughter as she drove away!9