Goodnight Moon

It’s late and I can’t sleep, probably because the moon insists on spotlighting the lake with very bright reflective glitter, OR because my brain is on overdrive with too many bizarre topics and refuses to shut down.  Probably the latter, although the former makes a good scapegoat.  Sorry, moon.  I apologize.  You’re really very pretty out there.  Really.  Are we still friends?

So what am I thinking about, exactly?  Nothing profound. 

Jack the yellow tiger cat, for example.  He got in the way of the car, broke his lower back, and had to have his tail amputated (not my car or my cat) for the low-low price of $250.00.  And the GPS.  It distracted the driver with 3 kids in the car and caused an accident that required towing (not my car or my GPS again, but the same car as the cat incident, just a different day).

Just things like that.  Things that force you eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches at midnight; things that grow LARGE in an old lady’s mind in the dark and the silence.

Shine on, moon, shine on.  You’re good late-night company.  I like you.  You’re a good listener.  So, moon, here’s a question for you.  What can I do about cars and cats that aren’t even mine?   See, you don’t know either.  The answer is nothing.  NOTHING. So I should just go to bed.  Right?  And leave the rest of the night to you. 

Goodnight, moon.  Goodnight cow jumping over the moon.  Goodnight old lady whispering hush.  Goodnight stars, goodnight air, goodnight noises everywhere.