My mother and I shuffled through the crowded aisles of
Wal-Mart. My mother buzzed about something she wanted to snatch, but the dull
roar of voices and the over powering scents of sweat and perfumes and
occasionally a breeze of liquor made her hard to hear. I glanced around at the items on the shelves.
We were in the sweets aisle, so I couldn’t really help myself. I always found
that actual baked sweets are better, but living in Arizona most of my
childhood, my mother really baked, and I was always too much of a klutz to have
been allowed to set foot in the kitchen, so boxed and plastic wrapped desserts
were the item of my childhood.
My special favorite was the Little Debbie’s Cosmic
Brownies. I used to get them for my desert when I had to make a packed lunch. I
always shared one half with my best friend, Victoria, and sometimes my friend
Cody. When I would spend the night at Victoria’s house, she would have her
mother buy Cosmic Brownies, and we would share them. She would always call them
“mua-ha-ha’s” and I’m not quite certain where she pulled that name from.
My mother calls my name, pulling me from my reverie. I
once again found myself standing in the crammed in the narrow boxed dessert
aisle, being jostled around by women rambling in something in Spanish, a baby
throwing a fit in a cart, and a man in a hat, attempting to slip by me. I
escaped to my mother’s side, taking one last glance at the box behind me.
