Teterboro to Bronxville

Piled into the town car; the four year olds head on the drivers thigh for a pillow; the seven year old reading signs to himself out loud…

mommy and daddy quietly arguing about how he was asleep when she kidnapped him and he cannot show up somewhere in sweat pants and his old vikings sweatshirt. “Jesus, Viv you can hardly even tell it was once a sweatshirt; can’t even read the dog ganged words on it no more”…

Hush Abel, I wore that thing through two pregnancies; my friends know that shirt without even looking…besides you’ve known them since college…

Mumbles…knew of them.


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