Whose Normal

Whose normal – your normal or my normal I ask her. She is shocked. Believing we all have the same normal. My children roller skated in the house, I tell her. They had swings in the basement. We had pink goats. My normal might not be your normal. But that does not make sense! She argues. That is a lie. I burned down my treehouse when I was smoking, I told her. I was eight. A pyromaniac. I set fires in the neighborhood. That’s not normal! She argues. It is normal if you are me, I tell her. I am a cannibalistic killer. She left screaming.