“Don’t. Move.”
Dad said in a weird, authoritatively hesitant, way… arms stretched out as if to brace against an 18 wheeler.
So, I guess Adam and I will wait here.
Every day is usually the same for us.
We hang out before school. Yesterday was "numbers," and i've learned that four is the next many i'll be.
We watch a lot of movies. We watch a lot of Top Gun. It’s highly inappropriate, sure, but we get to watch it anyway.
We ride bikes or play with a football.
We each have a fine selection of cap guns from which to choose. You see what I mean? There just isn’t that much for us to do.
I have to say waiting like this is awful.
I’m pretty sure Adam just said my dad is being “weed-ick-queue-less”. I guess I haven’t learned those words yet.
Whatever he’s being, he’s taking his time being it. Adam and I are going to play Cops and Robbers. Well, I guess we’re gonna play Robbers. Neither of us wants to be the cop because we just got new masks.
I realized that thing I wear, between me and my jeans, can be a hat with holes for our eyes and mouth!
Dad bursts out from the house. Something clicks, and Dad finally tells us we can go.
I appreciate his hurry. He knows we want to play robbers.
We leave. We head off to play. I can’t really see, but I turn to Adam and say:
“I’m glad i’ve learned to count up to two. The basket in my bedroom had one mask for me and a second for you.”
