Cold Finger

I try to count the goosebumps that run up and down my arms. I get to 37 before Mom catches me counting and berates me for the blue fingers and blue toes that she sees. I tell her I didn't notice. She looks up at the ceiling. A pair of socks hit me in the head a minute later. They're my favorite color. I smile. I put them on and they're warm. My goosebumps don't go away. I start counting again. 38, 39, 40. Mom looks at me, I start naming my goosebumps instead. I think I see her smile but she's always been good at hiding those things from me. It feels like a scavenger hunt, trying to find her smiles. I like scavenger hunts. I like mom's smiles too.