A Million Reasons Why

1.     A one in a million color
2.     A one in a million flavor
3.     A one in a million fabric
There are a million reasons why I should brush and wash. Squeeze the peppermint paste out of the tube. Apply the Cerave cream. Condition and comb, too. Dollops of detangler. Showering used to be a habit. Shopping lists of Dove bars, soap and chocolate, dairy, and boxes of oats. Morning habits. Along with hands held, mouths cleansed/kissed/coddled/wipes, and shoulders tapped. There are a million things I’d like to say. Strings of syllables turned sentences turned stories. While we speak, acronyms accumulate. BRB, GTG, FTW, WTF. I lose my way. Unable to order, alphabetize, or answer. There are a million sounds I’d like to hear. Long and short vowels. Hard and soft consonants. Tones, tonality, and tunes. Even so, we text. Fingers press buttons and letters become syllables. Syllables turn, eventually, to phrases as puffs of air float through the speaker that is my phone. Stories stall, yet your voice is lovely – the color of __1__. The flavor of __2__. The feel of __3__. I feel inspired. I pick up my paddle brush and you yours. Greetings turn to grooming and connections correlate with care. I’ve always been told that correlation does not imply causation and this much I know is true. I know, too, that connecting with you both correlates and causes creation. Good habits, good feelings, goodness the color of __1__, the flavor of __2__, and the feel of __3__. There are a million reasons why I thank you, friend. A million reasons why.