You sighed as you flipped through papers on your desk, rolling your shoulders to try and abate the itchiness that had set in while your sunburn began to peel. You set the papers aside and took in a deep breath, hanging your head while you closed your eyes.
You grabbed your phone when it jingled, not opening your eyes until you had the phone in your hands under the desk. A picture appeared, of a drawing of a few stick figures, a square house, green grass, a yellow sun in the corner. One of the stick figures had black hair, another yellow, two brown, and one pink . You couldn’t help but smile, sliding your finger across the screen when your mom called.
“Hey, Mama.” “What do you think about our little Picasso? I mean, I know it’s not abstract, but…”
You laughed.
“It’s excellent. Who’s the one with pink hair, though?”
Your mom sighed.
“That’s Abby. Apparently, she’s ‘always’ wanted to have pink hair. Who knew?”
You laughed, shaking your head.
“She’s the best.” “You should have seen the look on your dad’s face when she said that. I’m dying to find some wash-out dye or something and have him see her for real.”
You laughed again.
“Mom, that’s terrible.” “Yeah, well. He deserves it, after all the crap he’s put me through over the years.”
You shook your head. You looked at the stacks of papers on your desk and closed your eyes. After a moment, your mom spoke.
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