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06.07.02 - 11:57 p.m. tongiht in line at sonic i watched a father and his son. The dad was probably my age and at first i thought that maybe mom was working inside sonic but i didnt see anyone with his kind of hair and the little boy wasnt stretching to see through the window and so i think they were there by themselves. Just a father and his son. They looked just alike. I watched him mouth "sit on your bottom please," and he did, kicking two tennis shoed feet under the plastic waffle tabletop. The father looked briefly at me and his eyes smiled and then his mouth did and his son put his hands in his lap and his head on the table and the dad returned his eyes to his son and ruffled his hair with that same smile. And it occured to me that somewhere there is a woman that gets to watch the man that she loves do this with the child they made. The milkshakes came and i hoped and hoped dad would unpaper his sons straw first and he did, one smooth motion of red into white and handing it over to two hands that barely made a circle around it and as his son took three huge sips dad worked on his own straw and smiled. And i deserve that, i think. � 
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