criss cross apple sauce.

one time i was in the british museum in london this summer and i saw this couple, sitting criss cross apple sauce facing each other, knees touching, a little pow wow of we-ness, a little cross cross apple sauce shelter from the world around them. here they were, surrounded by tourists with cameras and maps and bustling to see the magna carta, and they were indian stylin it up on the white marble floor. at the time i was in a fight with my then boyfriend, and i felt like maybe all of our problems could be solved if we just sat down criss cross apple sauce on the floor across from each other, that somehow everything could be okay if we just got in that most intimate of positions and talked it out. i just wanted to run to his side and yell "criss cross apple sauce, tell your teacher to get lost" and plop down to sit on my back pockets and face him straight on, back to the position that brought me so much comfort at the age of 6. everything feels better when you're sitting indian style.

since the time i saw that couple 6 months, i think about them all the time. who doesn't want to sit cross cross apple sauce with the person they love, knees rubbing, bodies facing each other, hearts connected, oblivious to the rush of people around them? why have i never participated in creating an indian style refuge from the big bad world? here was this young couple in love, in one of the most famous and elegant cities in the world, in a museum with the most posh ancient artifacts of all time, sitting criss cross apple sauce on the floor like two kindergartners on time out. maybe they had gotten in a big fight on the tube, and needed to regroup. maybe they had been backpacking europe for months, and just needed a little R and R. maybe they just wanted to look at each other, touch knees, touch hearts, realizing that the leaning tower of pisa is beautiful but nothing compared to the face of the person that loves you back. who knows the why. i dont need the why. all i know is the world looks a little softer when you're looking at the person you love from the lap of mother earth, feet tucked under your calves, criss cross apple sauce.