numbers

She was wild and beautiful and sad and always testing and training my brother and I.

“How many people love you, joseph?”

“i dunno... lots?” i would answer, smiling curiously.

“Lets count them!” she’d suggest. As if nothing would ever match this moment in sheer precedence.

“Ok...” i would then whisper, touching my hands together in a silent clap.

“OK!!!” she would laugh, “Well I know that me and your big brotha are big fans of yours...” And she’d pry open two of my fingers, squeezing the tip of each, for my brother and herself. “How many is that?”

“Two, mommy.” I would say.

“And what about Molly?” Molly was our cat.

“Three.”

And i’d be pleased with myself.

“Good boy.”

This is how i learned to count.