Mama-Come-Lately

The line at the post office was longer than anyone wanted it to be. I thought about leaving, but took a number so I could get my brother’s birthday gift to him on time.

The space was small and the line snaked back on itself, pressing folks toward the highly trafficked double doors. I broke from the pack, shepherding the Boo to a chair near two rotating towers of greeting cards, a/k/a entertainment.

I picked one and read it to the kiddo. Then he started choosing his own, presenting them to me with zeal. And then the first little boy showed up.

I had noticed him and his brother when we walked in. Moon-faced, pale-eyed and bored. Standing with a haggard, straggly-haired woman who could pass for mother or grandmother. She looked and sounded exasperated, whether with the kids or life itself was hard to tell.

Boy One shoved a card at me, wordlessly. Delighted, I read it to him with silly gusto. He put it back and shoved another at me. Then Boy Two showed up. We read whatever cards they wanted to see along with the ones Boo wanted (they found their voices and were happy to demonstrate their reading abilities). They were especially thrilled by a card with a baby on the front and a poop joke inside.

Then their caretaker finished her business and it was our turn at the counter. We did our thing and left, negotiating the heavy doors with care.

As we stepped into the September sun, I heard a little voice call, “bye!” A little hand waved frantically from a passing car, desperate for my attention. I waved and yelled “bye!” back.

I’m going to be thinking about those boys and their little lives for a long time.