Baby Margaret

Yesterday, that girl and I fell off a cliff together and somehow landed directly inside a whirlwind.

At least, that’s how it seemed.

What actually happened is this: Our 2½ -year-old granddaughter took us on a frenetic tour of her house while we were video chatting with her.

We plunged from the cliff as soon as Mackenna was handed the smartphone by her mother.

That was immediately followed by a blurred and highly jittery flight from the dining room to the “big room,” where we were flung inside the zebra play-tent.  Then, following a brief flight through harsh light, we were stuffed into the festive branches of the Christmas tree alongside a singing ornament.  That’s when Mackenna asked, “Where is Baby Margaret?”

Off we flew once again.  Spinning.  Blurry nothings streaking nearby.  Lightness.  Darkness.  The television.  Darkness.  The sofa.   Light.  Finally, there!   The smooth plastic face of Baby Margaret floated up big in front of us and held there for a few moments.

But wait!  It’s time to put Baby Margaret to bed.

And off we flew once more.

Lightness.  Darkness.

Baby Margaret’s serene face suddenly appeared inside the crib.

All of us once again gathered together above her.  

—Mitchell Hegman