summer down south

I sat fidgetin'. My stomach hurt, and I was hungry. A knowin' had poked me in my side. Whispered for me to sit still. A hand I'd grown to know since childhood sittin' in the church pew darin' not to make a disruptive sound.

The sermon ended as the boisterous choir echoed and the congregation lined the aisle ready to leave. The simple drive home crept slowly as the little ones in the back seat grew ever more impatient. Church clothes and swimsuits couldn't be traded fast enough for the little feet that bounced continuously.

The bright colors pulled into view as I tried to hide the grimace on my face. Hot and crowded were the words that came to mind. I faked a smile hopin' my face wouldn't betray and disappoint. Expectations and rules uttered as a uniform pentatonic yes ma'ams spoke. In a brief second, they were off. The lazy river here, splash pad there.

I found myself starin' at the sizeable yellow slide. Who'd that this was a good idea I wondered. I peered at the seven-year-old generally attached to my hip standing at the sizable red slide. The Lifeguard hollered go, and we were off.

Later that afternoon, the colors faded from view as the shopping center presented itself and we got ready for our second activity. The worn bell rattled as we were greeted for the second half of our afternoon plans with a "Hi welcome to Cicis." “We'd like 14 buffets, please,” my sister politely asked. I made my way around the well-known restaurant snappin' picture after picture. I looked over to see everyone pilin' heaps of cinnamons rolls onto their plates. "No," I fussed. You must eat food first. Groans heard among the children. "They're just so good,"- "Please please, I can't resist." So, I obliged.

The conversation and multiple trips to the counter continued. The plates begin to stack higher and higher, the memories and cinnamon roll covered hands never ending as the value of Cicis proved itself to our large family.