“Mommy, why is the moon running away from us?”

A sigh from the front seat,
The wheels bouncing on the Michigan potholes.

“Honey, it’s not running away, it just appears to move with us.”

A moment of silence, except for the soft hum of the engine.

“But why, Mommy?”

A slight groan from the front seat as a speeding car passes.

“I don’t know, our eyes are just messed up, I guess.”

Bouncing pigtails from the toddler car seat, humming her song.

“Mommy, are we almost there?  I’m scared that the moon will catch up with us.”

“I thought we were chasing the moon.”

“But now it looks like it’s chasing us.”

Trembling hands grip the steering wheel tighter, knuckles white.

“I’m excited to see Daddy.  Are you, Mommy?”

“Don’t call him that.”

Her voice was dangerously low, almost the same pitch as the hum of the road.

More pigtail bouncing.

“But he is my dad, right?”

Pursed lips and clenched teeth.

“Yes.  Just try to be nice.”

“Are you talking to yourself, Mommy?”

Attention taken from the road, eyes wandering up to the moon.

“Mommy, why are we running away from the moon again?”

A sigh from the front seat,
The wheels bouncing on the Michigan potholes.

“I don’t know, we’re all just messed up, I guess.”