Supercalifragilous Expialidocious

The one and only “bowl” fell on the floor and broke today. This bowl was not just any bowl; it was the “bowl”. The “bowl” that my dad brought back for me during his first visit to Canada in preparation for our emigration to a new land.

My dad went to Canada to prepare the way. I did not cope with his absence well. My mother was fraught with anxiety, as I would not eat. She kept taking me to our family physician who finally concluded that I was displaying 'feelings of loss' because my dad was away. My mouth was inflicted with cankers as I pined for his return.

Alas, my dad came home to Belfast with the “bowl”. The “Mary Poppins bowl”. You see, Mary Poppins was my hero. She made sense of chaos. I used to dream of flying down on an umbrella. I so wanted to have her bottomless carpet bag to make my toys come to life and then tidy themselves. In my childhood's mind, Mary Poppins always had her priorities right.

I almost threw the “fractured bowl” out today. I could not. I have eaten my cereal from that “bowl” everyday for over 35 years. Therefore, tomorrow I will just use less milk. Mary Poppins has not taken to the air yet. I still long for her bottomless carpet bag to help keep me in order.

Zeyda, the “fractured bowl” and Mary Poppins still live on... well at least until I sort out my priorities of course. I miss you. You can send me an umbrella anytime, I have places to go and people to see ;)

Fruitloops anyone? “Just a spoon full of sugar helps the medicine go down.”