Has It Started Already?!

He calls me every morning at exactly the same time…

At 8:10, my cell-phone rings, and my 11 year old talks for ten minutes.

Without a breath.

“Hey, Mom, I locked the door. I have my homework. I ate my breakfast. The bus will be here in ten minutes. I wonder what we’ll have for lunch. I hate my social studies teacher. Football practice was awesome! You know how I told you about that kid, T. J.? Well, this is what I did last night….”

This makes me tired.

By now, I have walked to the front lobby of our building in order to ensure that my cell phone coverage will not be interrupted.

“Coach put the linemen in the backfield, just ‘cause we did such an awesome job on Saturday. He said he wanted to give us “a little love”. So, I’m standing back there, and Josh is about ten feet away, and Troy sails one….”

My head is in my hands, and I am breathing….

Listening and breathing….

“And, anyway, I think I got a good grade on my science test. I really feel pretty good about it. Oh,” Hey kitty”. My kitty’s here. Remember I told you about that kitty that sits with me until the bus comes? Well, she’s here. Wait….I’m gonna take a picture.”

Click.

I return to my desk and stand for several minutes in an effort to re-orient myself. The office phone rings several times, I put out several fires, and push back my chair, on my way to the water-cooler.

As I leave my office, I hear the ring that tells me I have a message.

The cat is long-haired, and calico, and though she apparently lives in my neighborhood and has a particular affinity for my son, I have never laid eyes on her before.



I show the picture to the resident cat-lover in our office whose 84 year-old eyes can’t quite make out the image. As I struggle to point it out, the phone in my hand rings, again.

“Ok, so it’s pretty cold out here, Mom. And, you know, there’s like no one else out here, so I just like put my hands in my pants. I mean, my hands were really cold and no one else could see. So I put them in there and they got warm, and so I took them out, and at the end of one of my hands was like this really LONG hair. And, I’m like “Oh, my God! Has it started already?" I mean this isn’t supposed to start now is it?”

The effort required to control my laughter silences me.

And, now, much softer, and much more insistent,

“Is it?”


Softly, persistant laughter infuses my voice as I assure us both.

“No, It’s ok. You’re ok.”

And, we are.

© Copyright 2007-2008 Stacye Carroll