On Going Home

I was in a diner with my baby on my hip, we walked past a half eaten plate of french fries. I stopped, looked around, and put one in my mouth, first dipping it in cold ketchup. My baby boy giggled. We left the diner, and got on a yellow school bus. I knew a few people, but I was mostly talking to my child. He looked at me and said, "Momma, I had to poo poo." I told him that it was okay, that he's a baby, and that we'd clean it up when we got home. He seemed to understand everything that I was saying.

We got off the bus, and went into someone else's house, (a guy who I don't really talk to from one of my classes at Chatham), Josh, lived there. He was doing dishes. I sat on an old sofa, and wrapped a blanket around my baby. It seemed like Josh was doing the dishes for a long time, I looked over at the sink, and there were bubbles flowing over the counter. He turned and smiled at me.

Josh told me that he had a late wedding gift for us. I told him that he didn't have to. He went in the bedroom and got a box. I followed him into the bedroom, and layed a blanket on the floor, I sat down. He told me to open it; I opened the present and inside was a toaster oven. He smiled proudly at the gift. I thanked him.

We decided that it was time to leave, another man, who seemed to be his roommate walked out with the three of us. It had started to rain. I had an umbrella with my baby and I under it. Josh and his roommate each had an umbrella. We stood on the porch watching the rain. I had a sinking feeling that it was going to take a long time to get home.