I'm picking Mary up after cheerleading practice. We're heading to her house, where I'll help her with her homework.
She gets in the car, fastens her seatbelt. Leans into the dash to change the radio station from NPR to something much much further down the dial. Sighs and flops back in her seat. Tells me about her day. Most of her fellow cheerleaders are annoying. School was boring. She fell asleep in social studies.
Cee Lo comes on the radio. Hey, I say, my cousin went to the Grammys with him.
Really? she says, impressed. (Impressed that I have a cousin who went to the Grammys? Or impressed that I know who Cee Lo is?)
Yeah, I say, my mom told me about it. My cousin's a musician, and my mom said he went to the Grammys with Silo or maybe Solo. But I'm pretty sure she meant Cee Lo.
Mary laughs and laughs.
We have a boy in our class who looks like Cee Lo, she offers.
Really? I say. Spittin' image?
Yeah, she says, you wouldn't believe it, Ms. Stephanie. He looks exactly like him.
We ponder the luck of this. Then, after a bit, Mary shrugs.
His name is Roger.