Somebody

Every once in a while I get hung up on the thought of Somebody.  Who they are, what they look like, what their story is.  I think about it every time I drive by an abandoned car on the freeway I wonder where they are, the Somebody that should be behind that wheel....where did they go?  are they coming back?  were they alone?  did they leave all their stuff locked up in the trunk or pack it with them?  did they stomp off towards the gas station or just start walking resignedly?  I get distracted imagining the stories of those lonely automobiles.  And one of these days when I get my act together, I'm gonna write down a collection of my little make believes....
But today I am less obsessed with who Somebody was.  I am mostly grateful for what Somebody did.  Like I was grateful that Somebody was carefree enough to jump on a piece of plastic and go flying down a snowy hill.  'Cause one way or another it led to our afternoon out with friends.  The girls swooping and giggling and taking breaks on the playground until their cheeks were purple and we herded them into the car.  I'm grateful somebody made it possible to record all kinds of information on compact discs.  My honey and our girls are watching Curious George and eating apple snack as I type this.  And I'm so glad Somebody messed around with heat and time and flour and yeast until it became a known fact that if you mix the right ingredients in the right way and wait, the warm, comforting smell of bread will fill the house before the genuine article fills your stomach.  Because homemade bread is the culinary equivalent of a hot bubble bath.  I'm grateful Somebody did all that leg work for all these good things.  'Cause I'm finding plenty to fill my days. 
So thank you, Somebody.  Maybe it'll be my turn someday.....