Sand Grains and Mothers

   The first thing that hit me, literally and figuratively, was the heat. 
   “It is quite hot here,” Dan said.
   “Yeah,” I agreed. “Pretty darn like.” 
   As I take a closer look around, something seems off.  Or, maybe on.
   “Hey!” I yell, making the kids jump. “I think I recognize this place.”
   “Are ya daft, laddie?” Wilfred scoffed. “It’s a desert.  Big, sendy heels fer as far as ya can see. Thay all look tha sem.”
   “Oh no,” I shook my head. “Not to me.  I can tell by some of the sand grains.”
   Dave snorted.  Sand grains.  Right.
   MphmmmmM!
   “Poncho, I will let you speak again on the condition that you and Dave do not bore me to tears with your hatred of each other.  Okay?”
   Mhm.
   “All right.  Dave, let him talk again.”
   Must I really?
   “Yes, yes you must.”
   Very well.
   Poncho sighed.  Ah.  Oh yes, that’s much better.
   “Poncho!” Dan exclaimed. “My old friend!  Where have you been?”
   Do I really have to answer that?
   I shook my head just a tad, but didn’t say anything.
   In that case, Dan, continue to wonder.
   “Why thank you, Poncho,” Dan said. “I believe I’ll do that.”
   “Yes, good,” I said. “You have fun.  Can we please get back to this familiar desert?”
   All right, Owen.  Just how, pray tell, can you distinguish between grains of sand?
   “Well you see,” I reached down and grabbed a handful of sand. “Each grain is like a snowflake.  No two are alike.”  I pour the sand out until I have just a few grains left. “Now, if you look close enough, you can plainly see the difference.”
   Wilfred landed on my hand next to the grains. “Are ya sure aboot thet, laddie?”
   “Yes, yes I am.  You of all, er, flies should be able to tell that.”
   “Weel Ah’m afraid Ah cen’t.”
   I held my ring hand up to my other hand. “How about you, Dave?  Can you tell?”
   Why yes.  That grain on the right has a distinctive purple look while the other looks rather green.
   “Exactly!  Wait…” I looked again. “They do not!  That one is yellow, and that one is brown.  What are you, color blind?”
   As ever, Davey, your sarcasm fails with amazing success.
   Oh shut it, Poncho.  You have never appreciated the fine arts.
   “Hey!  You two.  Don’t even get started.  We’ve got more important things to discuss.  Because I have definitely seen this desert before.”
   “Naw, laddie, Ah’m afraid you haven’t.”
   “Don’t tell me what I haven’t seen!” I thought for a second.  “Hhmm, that sounds really familiar.”  I thought some more.  “Oh well, I lost it.”
   I’m thinking there is something seriously wrong with this boy.
   And you’re just now figuring this out?
   No.  I thought that the first time he spoke.  I just now decided to chuck all courtesy and say it out loud.
   Oh, well, good for you then.
   “You guys do know that I can hear you, right?”
   Yes, of course.
   Why would we be talking about you otherwise?
   “Now that’s just rude.  Didn’t your mothers teach you manners?”
   Mothers?  What mothers?  We’re rings, we don’t have mothers.
   “Oh.  That’s…sad.”
   No.  It’s…actually…yeah…it is kind of sad…
   Oh man up, Poncho.
   But, Dave, I never had a mother!
   Neither did I, but do you hear me crying about it?
   No.  But that’s because you’re coldhearted and cruel.
   True.
   “Okay, guys, I did not mean to start a pity party here.”
   I am not engaging in any self-pity.  I am perfectly functional even without a mother, thank you very much.
   I never knew my mother!

   To be continued…