What I Wish

I wish I could shrink down to the size of a grasshopper (but still be me) and...


...climb into a warm peach cobbler. I'd roll around in the warm cobbler juices and take in the aroma of fresh peaches and brown sugar. I'd perch on a peach slice and alternate between bites of spongy cobbler crust and soft peaches until I was full and sleepy, my eyelids growing heavy - that delightful Sunday afternoon feeling. Then I'd take a peach slice in my arms and cradle it like a warm pillow. I'd drift off to sleep and dream of orchards and sunshine. I'd awake to the sound of fresh cream being poured over my luscious bed and I'd take a swim, enjoying the cool cream on my face as it contrasts the warmth of the peaches.

...tear open a warm Sister Schubert dinner roll. It would take all my effort to pry it apart, but the feel of the dough tearing, giving way between my struggling arms, would make me that good kind of tired. I'd climb inside and wrap myself in the warmth, let it close on me as if I were a pat of melting butter. Of course, this would make me sleepy, so I'd take a nap. When I woke up, I would tear off a giant mound from the very center of the roll - the softest part of all - and it would fill my arms as if I were carrying a giant cloud. I'd stroll down the hill and sit beside the Butter River, setting my yeasty load down beside me on the cool grass. Bit by bit, I'd tear pieces from the roll and dip them into the river, not caring about the melted butter dribbling down my chin as I indulged in my after-nap snack. I'd spend the whole afternoon there, listening to the birds chirp, closing my eyes to relish the cool spring breeze as it lifts my hair from my shoulders.

Yes, that's what I wish.