Great Hot Mess

As a child one of her favorite things to do was to make potato soup. She would take all the pots and pans out of the cupboard and fill them with everything but the kitchen sink, which didn’t really make for anything edible or savory according to her mother but it kept her occupied and certainly made for a great hot mess.

A headstrong little girl, she couldn’t be told what she couldn’t do. She took on that “watch me” attitude and would be off proving it could be done. With great adventure in her heart she was always venturing off and exploring. Growing up in Southern Maine with the long winters, she longed to be outdoors, playing.

One winter she wanted to paint the snow but her mother said it couldn’t be done.

With her “watch me” attitude, there she was out in the yard with her watercolors, a few paint brushes, a cup filled with warm water in her snowsuit and mittens, painting the ice all the colors of the rainbow.

She didn’t let others talk her out of things she believed to be true. The snow can be painted.

***

A grown woman she floats through the bar mingling with friends, and acquaintances and lovers of nights before sipping from her glass of guiltless pleasure a “Brittany Special.”

The boys admire her from afar, when she locks eyes, that’s it they're hooked. With her fearless attitude and assertive personality, her blonde straightened and blow dried hair. Her breasts perched in her Victoria Secrets bra, bounce at the brim of her v-cut top. She walks right up to the group of young men standing and staring and introduces herself.

“Hi there, I’m Brittany.”

Warm and bubbly she stands with her big smile, bats her lashes and giggles. Her bangs fall over her scandalous eyes, she laughs wholeheartedly at whatever foolishness these handsome strangers try to entice her with.

They call her “Scandal.” Boy crazy and beautiful, a dangerous combination. She believes that the town too can be painted.

***

As headstrong as she was, she could still be talked into things that weren’t true.

Near her childhood home in Old Orchard Beach with her mother and her brother. The three were looking for treasures on the beach, picking through the seaweed and the shells and the sand. Brittany found a beautiful white oval shaped object, smoothed by time and the tide. She held it in her hands and went running.

“Look Mom, isn’t it beautiful!” She exclaimed.

“Oh Punky (Her mother called her long before Punky Bruster) do you know what it is?

She shook her head.

“It’s a Seagull’s egg!” Her mother told her.

“Really? I want to take it to show and tell!”

Unknowing to her mother she took it to school.Regardless of how headstrong she was or how able she was to talk others into the things she believed were true. This she could not convince her classmates of. Sometimes a rock is just a rock even if you are told otherwise.

A funny little girl, a little gullible but at least she believed in what was.

****

Laying on the bluffs in the midday sun with her close friends, the air warm making the skin moist, she covers her face and cringes.

“I love him you guys. I do. I haven’t heard from him. We were hanging out everyday. I stayed at his house three nights in a row.”

She keeps checking her phone,to see if there were any new text messages,any messages from him.

Her friends have tried to convince her that he was no good, and could not be great.
But she opened all the cupboards to her great hot mess, even if wasn’t savory, for she believed it could be; but sometimes a dick is just a dick, even if you’re told otherwise.