Deep Thoughts

I am driving Hannah home from Circus Juventas, a youth circus arts school where she takes a trapeze class on Tuesday afternoons.  Just as we were getting into the car, she had said something about me being stupid.

“I don’t like that language,” I say.  Again.

“I didn’t mean stupid stupid,” she equivocates. “I meant it in the good way.”

“It sounded like stupid to me,” I say.

“I don’t really think you’re stupid,” she says. “But you can be annoying and embarrassing sometimes.”

I’m not sure we’re really getting anywhere.

I stop at a red light.  And I hear her say, “But . . . deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep . . . ”

The light changes.

“. . . deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep . . .”

I am being chanted a mantra. My mind wanders.  We come to our cross street.  I turn.

“. . . deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep, deep . . . “

I negotiate the frozen ruts and mounds of snow, trying to avoid the worst bumps.  We come to our house.  I pull up in front.

“ . . . deep down inside, I really love you,” she says.

I laugh.  “I love you, too,” I say.