Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

Coupons

Jeb discovers the concept of coupons
the free Longs Drugs store booklet is in our post office box
advertising images of electric nose hair trimmers for $7.99
V05 Shampoo
and Hershey bars
are on sale
he’s in the back seat as we drive home
flipping through his book of options
brimming with more enthusiasm than I have heard all week
“even soda!”
“even cereal!”
“this is unbelievable!”

He is in amazement that one can open the mailbox
be gifted a book of consumer goods
and be able to receive these items at reduced rates
by simply presenting a piece of paper

He grasps the concept like an alien that just landed on planet earth
(which at the age of six, he sort of is)
reminding me of all I take for granted
all the coupon books I’ve cursed on their way to the recycle bin
my sadness for the trees lost
to sell a can of Van de Camp baked beans

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

February 2, 2010

February 2, 2010

Jeb tells me that his friend at pre-school is having bad dreams. The teacher encourages the children to wish good thoughts for him so that he can have a more pleasant dreamtime.

Jeb tells me he wished for the friend to be dancing with fire ants.

“Why fire ants?” I ask.

“Because they stung me once.”

The next day at school the class checked in to see how his dreams were. He said he dreamt he was dancing with fire ants.

Later in the evening, Jeb and I log on to Netflix to watch an episode of Meerkat Manor. Striped fur and featherlight monkey tails all move in unison across the screen. Tonight they’re looking for a new burrow.

Jeb says, “I wish my dad and I could be Meerkats.”

“How come?” I say.

“Because if you have burrows, then you don’t need money for a home.”

The weight of his dad’s financial burdens reveals itself in aching sweetness. My heart skips a beat.

Still pondering the possibility of Meerkatness with a zip code in the Kalahari, he says “I guess we couldn’t watch movies, though.”

Posted on by Jessica Dofflemyer

Pomegranates

photo by Jessica Dofflemyer

The hills rise up in sloping curves. Their blond sides glow in golden sunlight in angles that hint at evening.

At the base of the bosom of these hillsides we harvest the apple tree. Four o clock in the afternoon and nightfall’s impending presence begins to settle in. Read more