Mother's Wisdom

We were in the kitchen.
My mother was cooking.

I was cutting chillies open.
"Is this how it ought to be?"
The words poured themselves out of me.
Mother added chillies to the pan in answer.

I was cutting tomatoes.
"Just because my bosom dangles and I need to sit to pee?"
Mother glanced at me silently as she stirred the soup.

I was cutting onions.
"Will my hands always smell like spices... Like yours do?" I cracked a half-smile as Mother seasoned the food with salt.