Stained-glasses

Life. It’s taken in through a mosaic filter of emotions.  The view altered, as through stained-glasses, by the depth or absence of color, the opacity, the obscurity of the feelings with which we filter each exchange. From dark rippling to smooth transparent clarity.

Case in point, My Keags gets along with morning like a hurricane gets along with coastal cities. Left unchecked, the chaos that ensues could easily necessitate MDS relief. On this particular morning, his eyelids grudgingly peek open to reveal a filter of, what seems to be, a dark intense loathing for all things great and small. The task of making lunch clearly a very inhumane request. Options: Pulled pork – served as a taco or as a sandwich. Neither option seemingly favorable, he disdainfully spews forth his choice, “sandwich” (which comes out in muttered growl, but, luckily, I’m fluent in Morninglish). Presented with the container of pulled pork, immediately vexed, he glares at it as though being presented with a camel that he is to fit through the eye of a needle…”What do I take it out with??!!” … When your brain in so tangled in loathing the world, “fork” is obviously a trapped thought lost under the rubble. Thus progresses the painstaking preparations for the day. During backpack rummaging, he produces (with agonizing movement) a note from school. I beam over this note which announces that my tiny offspring has been specially selected to participate in the Art Enrichment Program. “Oh, my amazing boy!”  Proud mama’s exclamations of her baby’s artistic talents seem to have a ‘smack to the face’ effect in which Keags’ filter snaps to a delightfully rose colored shade, suddenly an advocate for joy and sweetness!  A transformation so stunning, my foggy morning lenses have been cleared up, and with a bonus pink tint at that. As I nudge those stained-glasses back up on the bridge of my nose I ponder…  Bet that pulled pork won’t taste too bad after all.

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