Grandmas Kitchen

I finally know how to make my kitchen smell like my grandmas,

Though I am still working to perfect my elegant, relevant, magnificent sass

The type she embodies, filling the room of heckling comedies 

My brother and my cousins could reminisce and tell you very well.

The sound of the hiss and the fumes going up our nose, an incredible smell.

Rising from the computer room in the morning to find our grandma in her sleeping robe and each foot in a fuzzy slipper

My grandpa, old but still a spry whipper snapper.

Mixing together eggs and such to dip dip dip and swirl the limp piece of bread in

That would get tossed onto the big square hot piece of metal

She would set it at medium high

She would put butter in it and move that around with a spatula

She would slap a piece of egg soaked bread into the butter

Tssssssssss

My grandpa is there too

Pouring cups of decaf coffee. They stopped smoking and drinking caffeine on the same day. The day of my uncle's concert of some type.

My grandpa is there

He’s scooping us ice cream

He’s tuning the radio

He’s watching the birds and the squirrels out the window

My brother and my cousins could be my alibi 

When you walk into the room you feel lighter, warmer, softer.

Sitting at the high-top chairs with denim cushion covers

Just woke up but so awake

Filled with love and didn’t even know it

Felt it but didn't know what that feeling was

It just

Was