I stepped off the train with my bike, ran down the length of one car, and tapped on the window rapidly, trying to get my son’s attention. He had his usual “I’m just here, doing my thing” expression. Teresa had her over-joyous mom smile on, “Say bye-bye to daddy!”
I hate when she leaves. It always feels like a tragedy. I’m always convinced she’ll be kidnapped at a rest stop, or in this case, the plane will crash. Something.
So now I have 4 lonely nights ahead of me. I tried to fill them with nights out with friends, but Juan has been struck down with the grade school plague known as Pink Eye. Yeah, I know, next thing will be chicken pox and maybe lice. He should get cool adult illnesses like me. Prostatitis is where it’s at.