“They’re everywhere” You state
“Who” I ask
“Those kids… ”

I pause and look up at you.  You are grimacing slightly.  It is painfully cute and I want to laugh.
“You do know what we are doing right… I mean… seriously”
“This is different”  you snort  almost indignantly
“This is childish”

A tiny ring rises up from the bin.
“Hmmm that’s too early are you setting them right?”
“I think so… probably not”
“The trick is to turn to the ten and then back down to the five”
“Alright”

I do as you say but I know I mess up on some… I’m too busy stealing glances at you. We work in tandem.  We work in silence.  I stop occasionally to place my ear to the bin. It’s ticking like a bomb and buzzing like hive and sizzling like a choir full of kids sucking on poprocks during a quiet prayer.  I notice some women looking at us funny but it doesn’t matter.

I’m riding on the wings of your high.

One of mine go off early again and I apologize.  You smile.  You grab my hand and weave your fingers through mine while muttering something about spatulas.   We are browsing two aisles away when the first of the multicolored egg timers go off.  I think it is another mistake until it is quickly followed by another and another.  I nearly bite my own tongue. I think I am going to explode from holding in the laughter and the embarrassment.  I turn into you, wanting to hide my face in your chest.

“Keep it together.” you whisper.
“I can’t” I manage to wrestle the worlds out.

My face hurts and I know I am smiling from ear to ear.  When I look up at you you seem to be having just as hard a time.  So we make our retreat to textiles.  I would have run but you kept us at a very non obvious brisk walk while I giggled and stared at the floor.

“They are going to haaaaaaaaate us”
“Yep” I agree

I’m sure our little adventure aggravated some and amused others but I don’t care.  I’m in the moment.  I’m mindful in an almost Buddhist way  feeling my  heart tick like a bomb, buzz like a hive and sizzle like a choir full of kids sucking on poprocks during a quiet prayer.

While all those timers were going off
time stopped
it stopped
it slipped
it tripped back
and suddenly I’m a child again
just a giddy girl
holding the hand of a boy
with lips turned up in a riotous grin
that’s half mischievous
and all pure pleasure