Momma Smooth

Momma Smooth

Momma Smooth didn’t look like a mother. Not a Big Momma or a Soccer Mom or a Simple Mommy. She was none of these and all of these, but what really got to me—and all my buddies—was how engaging she was. This woman could listen. Better yet, she could hear what you wanted to say even when you didn’t say it, so when she asked me and my friends to help her build a Momma Smooth shack so she could serve up things for us to eat and drink, well, it was a no brainer.

But there’s something else important about Momma Smooth. So important I really should have started with it, but I didn’t, so here goes—she had an aura around her. Yeah, a real live I can feel it with my five senses aura. Huh? You ask. An aura? Don’t be stupid. No one has an aura.

Momma Smooth does. For real. They say people with a strong presence have a strong aura. They say some of them have auras that reach out thirty some feet. I measured Momma smooth’s aura. Did it more than once. Hers is twenty-six and a half feet exactly. So I drew up a store for her that was round with the exact diameter of twenty six and a half feet. That way anyone coming into her store would always be within the frame of their aura. And a circular building? That was pretty cool, too.

We'll be open soon and I can't wait for the ribbon cutting. Meanwhile you can email us at grayaxis@grayaxis.com with questions, comments, recipes, and almost anything else. Just keep in mind Momma Smooth's aura--about twenty-six and a half feet.