Mum and I walked into the store. This place never sleeps; rather, it fills itself with all types of tired people, drifting from one product to another. Today we were additions to that fatigued torrent that trickles in and out of the maze of isles, searching for whatever we’re looking for. We were both very tired, not wanting to be here, but compelled by the idea of our family devoid of our primary fodder: cereal.

“Now remember,” mum wheezed through her cold-ridden throat, “I’ve consumed a lot of medication.”

Today as we walked down the cereal isle, I backtracked to pick up some cheerios. I noticed mum was dead ahead of me, pushing the cart in front of her. And all I can say is: I had a moment. I had a 'Rachael' moment. I felt the uncontrollable urge to attempt to lob the bag of generic cheerios over her head in an effort of ultimately landing the cereal securely in the shopping cart. I didn’t hesitate; I imagined the bag flying majestically through the air and mum’s surprise as the unidentified object plummeted into the cart she pushed in front of her. The vision was beautiful.

I hurled the bag up, carefully aiming and judging the force of the bag with my tongue sticking out of my mouth. It soared through the air, twirling around a couple of times before landing squarely on my mother’s head. I’ll never forget the way it slowly slid off her head, down her face and onto the linoleum floor. As the bag made its way down to the floor, it fell and uncovered her face.

That expression was priceless, absolutely classic, yet I didn’t react to it; I was still in a somewhat peculiar confusion as to the absurdity that had just occurred. She stood there, her arms limp at her side, with every muscle in her face relaxed but those controlling the eyebrows, which were pulled down into this droopy “It makes so much sense yet I still can’t believe it” look.

I stared back, still confused, in an expressionless face that seemed to say “you heard me”.

She watched me intensely for half a second longer, before rolling her eyes and returning to the cart without a word.

It wasn’t long after this that I doubled into fits of laughter. For those moments though, those limited moments, I honestly didn’t know what to think. I just stood there, wondering exactly why I refuse to function as a relatively normal human being. I had just chucked a bag of cereal through the air for no apparent reason at all. I didn’t know why. After I realized just how ridiculous it all was I was laughing like mad, bursting into a grin sporadically every now and then (I actually think I offended quite a few people because of this; I would just look at someone and start laughing) It made the shopping trip extraordinarily enjoyable.

Mum didn’t mention the incident, we just went along, wearily laughing at each other and the world as we plowed ahead, leaning on the cart. I think she was happy to see that I would do such a thing. My lows are low, they are. But in the end, the self portrait I paint is one that portrays certain things quite clearly: On the whole, I enjoy life.