So, I pulled up to  Joey’s (my step-grandson’s) house, got out of my car and walked up to his front door. Unlike yesterday, there was no note left for me by his mother, so I knocked on the door. Joey answered and said, “Give me 5 minutes.”

I gave him 5 minutes and he came out w/out his book bag. He went back to his house, knocked on the front door for a minute or 2 till his mother answered. Then, he went inside and came out with a book bag and a lunch box. He climbed into the car and was about to buckle his seat belt when he said, “God, I forgot my note.” He left the car for his front door, knocked and knocked again till his mom answered. He went inside and came back out w/ a piece of paper in his hand.

“That your note,” I asked.

“Yep,” he said.

“So, how was your appointment at the eye doctor’s?”

“It was okay,” he said. “Considering we had to go to California.”

“You had to go to California?”


“C’mon, Joey.”

“Okay. We showed up at the office in town and they told us the appointment was at their office in California. We went back home, instead.”

“And you stayed home from school?”


Did you really go to the eye doctor’s?”


“So, why’d you really stay home?””

“Oh…I spent the weekend at my cousin’s and didn’t do my homework and I…”

“Your mom let you miss school?”

“It was her idea. She said, ‘You wanna play hooky?'”

“So, her note to me sayin’ you had ‘appointments’ was a lie?”

“Yep. Sorry.”

“You didn’t write the note. Your mama did. She lied to me.”

“I did, too.”

“That’s right, you did. But you’re 9 years old. Doesn’t make it right but I understand why a kid lies.”

“But not a grown up?”

“Not your mother. I don’t understand why she lies to me.”

“She didn’t have a job interview, either.”


“Saturday. When she had me call you to babysit, she said she had a job interview but she didn’t really.”

“Well, Joey,” I said. “I guess we’re gonna have to talk more about that tomorrow coz, here we are, at your school.”

He opened the door, leaned back to half hug me and say, “I don’t want to talk about this subject anymore.”

“Okay,” I said. “Study hard. Do your best and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He slammed the door and waved. “See you tomorrow,” he said as he ran for the school entrance door.


About joefingas

I am a songwriter, poet, blues singer, and a boogie woogie piano player. I have a grandson but I have no children of my own. All my women have wised up and left me. I was a bum, a wino, a drug/alcohol counselor, a prevention/intervention specialist and a pretender. I have no more time to pretend.
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