Maybe Tomorrow

Tomorrow is May Day. When I was little May Day involved stealing available blossoms from neighbors, eating all of the candy from the Styrofoam cup and pipe cleaner May Day Baskets, and then dumping the popcorn. There was also the anticipation of the chase, the elaborate planning of escape routes that usually culminated in complicated gravity defying jumps and rolls. But mostly we sat the cups down on our neighbors' porches (and then sat them back up after the wind blew them over), rang the doorbell, and were so overcome by giggling that any chance of escape was lost. We will see how fleet-footed my little guests are tomorrow. And how overcome by giggling.