By Fay Khudairi

Mom has a jar on the kitchen counter
Filled high with marbles
And every morning I look at that jar
Guessing how many are inside

All day I ponder the size of the container
Today’s, a shampoo bottle
Glass cat eyes peering out
The blue ones with the black flecks are my favorite
There are 16 of them.

When I get home
I make my guess
Anxious for the results
47
I state emphatically
All business.
“Aww, so close but no cigar!”

A candy is added to my prize bag
For the day I guess correctly

Sometimes I get them wrong on purpose
So I can rack up more prizes
To make the victory that much sweeter

There are days
I feel I can’t be wrong
The whole day I’m buzzing with confidence
Those are the days I make statements
I’m all answers.

Then there are other days
I can’t remember the feeling of being certain
Everything is so fuzzy how could I have thought I knew?
Then I start to question everything.

Am I certain that five times five is 25?
I hate that, I mean,
You’re the teacher, how would I know?

Mom has a jar on the kitchen counter
Filled high with hair
She tells me she’s going to use it for an art project
I’ve seen baggies of hair in her cosmetic drawer
Months pass and the straw strands
Stay knotted in their plastic bags
Dry and suffocating
There’s enough to weave a whole blanket
But not enough to keep her warm

As she snags out a ball of shedded hair from a brush
Her own on her head continues to grow
Healthy with Moroccan oils

It will be a canvas mermaid on the sea
With long golden locks
Cascading into the waters

This thread is sacred and pure
Meant to be admired and marvelled at
Not the kind used to sew her daughter’s wedding quilt
Synthetic and rough

When my sister got married she wore a vintage old dress
Of my aunt
With lace arms and a buttoned back
From her hips to the nape of her neck
I counted to 35 as I stretched the loop over each satin bead

I heard a song by the Beetles about jars
Someone died and then darned their socks
I’m not sure what it means but it made me feel sad.

17 bars on the Mighty Muscle Man structure
Only third graders and older are allowed
I used to pick on the second graders
Tell them they couldn’t be there
It’s for their own safety!
(while tugging on their swinging legs)