Cactus Fries

I was sitting in the office playing Spider Solitaire when Mom got up from her Sunday afternoon nap. She wheeled out of her bedroom, crossed the hall and stopped in the doorway. As I made the final two moves to win my game, she asked, “Are you hungry?”

I glanced down at my empty paper plate which held a few crumbs from my lunch of half a turkey sandwich and some grapes. “Not anymore,” I replied. “Why do you ask?”

“It looks like you’ve got French fries,” she said, pointing into the room.

I thought she might have mistaken the flowered pattern on the paper plate for a smattering of fries so I held it up. “Do you mean this? It’s a flower print.”

“No, not that,” she said still pointing into the room. “Those thingys right there. The French fries.”

I looked around my otherwise empty work surface and shrugged. “I don’t know what you mean. Why do you think I have French fries?”

“Because they’re right there in front of you,” she explained. “On your computer.”

I glanced at the screen saver displayed on the second monitor. It was a photograph Bill had taken of the blooms from one of our agaves.

“It’s a picture of flowers, Mom, not French fries,” I explained.

“Oh, okay. I guess you better not try to eat them then,” she said, turning sharply to the left and wheeling away.

agave flower

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