Green Eggs and Pancakes

The waitress set our plates on the table

“Happy St. Patrick’s Day!”

Her voice feigning cheer

While her face contradicted the jolly message

She had difficulty masking the hostility

The green eggs looked like plastic barf

And the matching green pancakes?

Too light for St. Patty’s Day

Too green for a decent breakfast

At least the ham was normal

It was possible I had fallen into a Dr. Seuss nightmare

The glares we were getting from patrons

Were anything BUT welcoming

As we ate, I tried to quiet my eyeballs

They tend to roll really loud

Like outside voice loud

We were surrounded by rural, white farmers

In rural, white Utah

Celebrating a white holiday with green eggs and green pancakes

That we didn't order
We ordered pancakes, ham, and eggs
But not in green
We weren't even given a choice
Or a head's up
Nothing
My daughter walked back from the restroom
Took one look at the food
I shook my head, still in disbelief
Willing her to stay quiet
Looking across the room
Kitty corner to our booth
An older gentlemen sat staring at us
Not even hiding the fact
That his eyes were glued to the two brown women
Who stared in turn at their green food
Snapping out of our shock
We prepared our food as we usually do
Meticulously cutting our pancakes
Before pouring the syrup over the pieces
The more syrup the better
You want pancakes with your syrup?
Yes, please
Taking a bite, while giggling at the madness
It wasn't half bad
The eggs? Those were not half good
Ham, you are my saving grace
Minutes later, the waitress returns
"Do you need anything else?"
Even if we did, I wouldn't say anything
Just the check, please
So I can get away from this horror movie
I wasn't about to die in Nowhere, Utah
The cashier is a young Latina
"How was everything?"
Finally, a question with genuine concern
That's good customer service, my friends
Relieved to see another brown person
I wondered how she fared
Working, possibly living, in this surly environment
Driving home, surviving breakfast doused in food coloring,
We had two hours to dissect
Being put under a white microscope
Making us appreciate our neighborhood
With its rich diversity
And strong familial ties
Feeling sad for those who lack that beauty
Who can't see past someone's complexion
The only color they seem to appreciate
Are in green eggs and pancakes
We're well into the twenty-first century
And yet...

Hair Color and Potty Mouths

The beginning of each month has signified a very important milestone in my life for the past year. It's hair coloring day. I've tried paying for hair coloring with highlights to cover those stubborn white hairs that seem to be multiplying like rabbits, but it was too expensive and time consuming. So I found myself a box and color that I could afford and enjoyed. It's almost the same as my natural hair color. Well, before the white started taking over. Before I go any further, yes, I am vain. At least in that department. My sister said I was just like my dad, who colored his hair for many, many years. I take that as a compliment since my dad was a very good looking man. I'm just not ready to let my hair change color. And texture. I embrace my curls. They make me feel strong and sassy. And they are a natural part of me.

I mentioned to my daughters it was time to go color my hair and my youngest, who is thirteen, says, "Mom, you should just let your hair go white, like that guy in the movie Glass." That guy being Samuel L. Jackson. She didn't say, "Let your hair go white so you can look like Storm from X-Men. Or T'Challa's mom in Black Panther." She could have named any other female with beautiful white hair but she chose Samuel L. Jackson. My sister got a kick out of that. She texted: "It's prob cuz of that mother effing potty mouth u mother effing use every mother effing day." Sigh... I give up.