This is the scene every morning.
There goes my youngest punk, off to school.
Now he’s behind the column and Cisco always turns to me..
Mama? Where is he going? Is he really leaving us?
Yes Cisco, he has to go to school.
There he is again! Maybe he will come right back (and smell my stinky breath).
And so, he stands there… watching and waiting…
And then lays there… watching and waiting until I can no longer stand the poor sight, so I shut the door and play catch with him. If I don’t do that, then he sadly walks around the house and I find him laying up on my punks bed, checking the window from time to time to see if he’s coming home yet.
This may be pitiful, but this is our morning routine.