“A Little Coffee, The Mornin’ Meetin’, Then A Nap…”

Accordin’ to the digital clock on the dashboard, it was 6:43am when Joey called. “Uh,” he said. “Are you coming to pick me up this morning?”

“I’m on my way buddy,” I replied. “Sorry I’m late.”

“It’s okay.”

It was okay. The 2nd school day of the year and it was okay. I’ve bypassed his mother and his biological grandfather. Everyone at the Catholic School thinks I’m his grandfather so Joey and I are workin’ together to make sure he’s okay.

“Did your mother sign the form?”

“Yep,” Joey said as he climbed into my car. “It’s in the book-bag. Did you get my shirt?”

“No,” I said. “I was so tired comin’ home last night. I thought I was goin’ to have to pull into a rest stop. I’ll go get it after I drop you off.”

“Okay. P.e.’s at ten forty five. I hope you can get it to me before then.”

“No problem.”

I walked with him from parking lot to cafeteria where the pre-care program is located. Ms. Sandra was there and she sang, “Hello, Joey.”

I asked her if I had to sign him in and she said, “No, I sign him in and, in the afternoon, after school, you sign him out.”

Joey gave me the form his mother signed and I gave it to Ms. Sandra.

Joey cleared his throat to get her attention. He asked, “Does the front office have any Catholic School gym shirts we can buy?”

Ms. Sandra replied, “There should be a second hand uniform, shirt and shorts, up there.” She pointed at me and said, “Go on up there and check.”

“These should fit,” Ms. Williams, front office receptionist, said as she handed me a clean and pressed shirt and short set.

I offered and 5 dollar donation but she held up her hand and said, “Don’t worry about it.”

Joey grabbed the clothes, put them in his gym bag and said, “Thanks. See you after school.”

I yawned and rubbed the top of his head. “Sure thing, buddy,” I said. “Sure thing.”

I walked back to my car, got in and thought…


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.
This entry was posted in 12 Step Meetings, Co-Dependency, Love, Memoir, Money, Parenting, Relationships, Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

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