Today I stood outside after it rained, and carefully tied my growing tomato plants to the next level of the tomato cage. I could smell the tomato plant, and it put me back in my motherâs garden, picking cherry tomatoes, and eating more than I put in the basket. I had some music playing, and suddenly, in the humidity, I was 7 years old, watching girls do backflips during our schoolâs summer fun program. Despite all my years since, and all the times Iâve heard it, in moments like this mamma mia still brings me right back to when they let us run around the school, before they made rules about signing in and out. Iâve never been able to do a backflip, but watching them flip around in the dimly lit music room, in the heat of summer, the first time I ever heard mamma mia and thought *this is a great song*, I donât need to. Iâm there, Iâm 7. I smell the tomatoes and hear the music. Mom, Iâm coming home.