Can't take me anywhere, can't figure out how old I am.

But I don't mind
But I'm not surprised to find that you do
I'm not surprised to find that you do
I know you do

And I feel fine
But I know the same does not apply to you
I know the same does not apply to you
So I guess that I'll curl up and die, too.

I'm awash in petrichor and misplaced good intent today and all of it's disguised, dipped in black, mimicking shadows, fading into inky darkness so that once I can't determine the outlines anymore, I forget any of it was ever there.

And that's okay, or so I'm told.

Caleb bought me an ice cream cone and didn't say a word as I managed to get a big blob of it on my robin's egg blue threadbare coat. He hates this coat. It's one of my favorite things. He went and fetched soda water and used his handkerchief to try and get it out but I said I would wash it instead and it's clean now, on the drying rack with the flannel shirt brigade.

(Nothing changes. I did the same thing to a brand new sundress in 1980. He wet his towel in the lake and tried to get the ice cream blob out then too.)

One scoop of chocolate, one of coffee. That's my order. Sugar cone as long as it isn't more than a dollar extra, because sometimes it's two-fifty and that's a hell of a markup on a single cone.

He still gets butter pecan, or plain vanilla. One scoop, in a little bowl with a throwaway spoon.

Ice cream is an event. That's a cop out. I indicate his bowl with disdain. Why bother? It's like asking for one plain chip when you could have a whole bag of salt and vinegar chips. Or ketchup ones!

Well, to me the event here isn't the ice cream, it's the company. The ice cream is just a cover for time with you. 

Oh. 

Did you honestly think differently?

I give him my patented nine-year-old's shrug. Well...I mean...it's ice cream...

Neamhchiontach, I need you to convince him that I'm doing this in earnest. 

Eating ice cream?

Bridget-

I'm kidding! I'm also not going to pick sides in something that's between you and Loch. 

You're the only one he listens to. You rule his heart. Have a go at his mind. 

No. 

I beg your pardon? 

I said no. You can't convince someone to trust you. They have to believe in you. The problem is your words and your actions never match. 

When did you grow up, Neamhchiontach?

When you two were busy fighting. Guess you missed it.