10 pm and the last carton of milk was almost empty. I bought 2 at the start
of the week.But there was enough for 1 last bowl of Sugar Pops- With
Sugar Pops, I just can't stop! So now its gone. Munch, munch, munch-
and now I have to go get more milk so the kids can eat cereal in the
morning. I dump the last 3 or 4 drops in the sink, rinse, and do that
crush the carton thing I so like. As if they were designed to be
flattened. Ooo, I shoudn't have had that last bowl. A bit much, 3
bowls. I pull on my shoes and head out into the cool evening. Driving
for the 7 11, I pull up to a 4 way stop. 2 cars at the sign. My turn-
I was here first. But he doesn't think so, or thinks he's spatial
(special with an accent). Beep, you son-of-a-gun.
At the 7 11, about 10 kids are hanging out. Ex-cuse me, I have a
reason to want to get by, thankyou. Like they own the sidewalk.
Smoking, cussing, ruining their lungs, slapping each other to crude
jokes, cuts on their classmates. Cruel youth (who said that?) I pay for the
milk (2 79) and at the door try not to open it into this kid
with a backwards baseball cap and a fag between his teeth. Say nothin
this time, either. My stomach is working on that cereal, I feel it. I
swing open the car door. It takes 2 tries to start. I need gas. Stop
at the Texaco. 12, the pump says. No going out to lunch tomorrow. I
get home, and go up and look in on the kids. Ah, now I feel much
better. I love seeing them asleep. Now I can go to bed.
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