the beautifullist thing
“mama, mama, what’s the beeeeeyooootifullist thing you’ve ever seen?” shrieked the girl at the top of her lungs as she twirled circles around the woman in leopard-print leggings. she looped her arms around the woman’s neck, taking turns dangling her legs and jumping up and down, then tossing the woman’s hair into her face with her palms.
the woman didn’t answer but rather craned her neck, peering around the girl’s scrawny arms towards her laptop screen. the girl tried to look, too, but couldn’t see what her mother was typing, as the words were hidden behind a dark plastic privacy screen.
“mama! mama!” shrieked the girl.
“now listen,” said the woman, placing a slender hand on the top of the girl’s head and smoothing her hair back towards the nape of her neck. “I need to get something very important done today-”
“I know you’re busy, mama,” said the girl, suddenly very quiet, and the woman exhaled a sigh of relief.
“thank you, kiki -” kiki was not her daughter’s name but rather her nickname, because she poured kikkoman soy sauce on top of everything.
“…BUTTTTTT I JUST NEED YOU TO TELL ME THE MOST BEAUTIFULLEST THING YOU’VE EVER SEEN IN YOUR WHOLE BIG LIFE!” the girl bellowed. then, whispering again: “and then i’ll leave you alone, for-e-ver.”
the woman bit her lip. “the most beautiful thing…” she began, and paused to think. she wondered whether she should say that it was the little girl’s dimples or her chubby pink toes. then she remembered the tomatoes she had brought in from the garden the previous evening.
“I don’t think I can decide on just one beautiful thing from my whole life, honey,” she said. “what if i tell you the most beautiful thing I saw yesterday?”
kiki tilted her head to the side and thought for a little while. “mmKAY,” she said. “but then you’ll have to answer again tomorrow.”
“come here,” the woman said, beckoning as she stood up and walked towards the refrigerator. “have a look at this.” she took out a bowl of crimson red tomatoes and fished one out from the bottom of the pile.
near the stem of the tomato was a thin, brown, meandering scar which gave kiki goosebumps. the scar was made up of ridges, like a wriggly brown earthworm, and turned around five corners to form the shape of a lopsided house.
the woman pointed to the pentagon. “do you know what this is?” she asked.
kiki shook her head.
“that’s cepheus,” the woman said. “a constellation of stars in the night sky. i called it ‘the little nightlight house’ when i was your age, and used to look for it in my telescope with your great uncle herbie. i thought it was pretty cool how the same pattern appeared in this tomato i pulled from our garden last night.”
“but mama,” frowned kiki. “this tomato is fugly.”
the woman studied her daughter’s face for a moment, then tilted her head back and laughed. “i guess i was looking at the pattern and not the tomato,” she said. “and besides kiki - sometimes there’s beauty in imperfection.”
kiki crossed her eyes and scrunched up her face. “you mean there’s beauty in my boogers when i do this with my nose?” she asked. but she had already sped out of the kitchen before the woman could answer.