This morning I was making pancakes when Beau sidled up next to me. Taking her cue from me, she grabbed a pancake in her hand and began eating it as she leaned up against the counter.  “Mmmm, this takes like a sugar-muffin,” she said.

“A sugar-muffin?” I asked.

“Yeah, you know the muffins that have frosting…oh, whoops…I mean, a cupcake.”

“Ahh, yes…that is a sugar muffin!” I exclaimed, and we laughed.

“Remember the one-couch?” she asked, laughing.

A couple of months ago we were looking for a couch. We came across a big leather chair, and sinking into it she said, “I think Papa would really have liked this one-couch.”

“One-couch?”

“Yeah, a couch for one,” she said, giving me the look that conveys, “Duh...”

“Umm…I think it’s called – a chair?

“Oh…yeah.”

We had laughed hysterically.

“Sometimes my brain just doesn’t work that well,” she laughed.

“I think your brain works perfectly. You just see things differently than other people sometimes. If you ask me, one-couch and sugar-muffin are way better descriptors than chair and cupcake. You have the mind of a poet. That’s a beautiful thing.”

“Hmm, maybe. Meanwhile I guess I’ll just sit in my one-chair and eat some sugar-muffins.”

Fair enough.

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