Still Waiting

I am tired from running around all day with my friends. As I jump up and down like the little bunny I am, I excitedly tell my mommy how we learned cursive that day in class. The house is filled with the smell of parmesan chicken. I bounce up and down by the door, waiting for my daddy to come home so we can eat and play together. He normally strides through the door around 6 o’clock. Mommy’s setting the table for dinner and I notice she forgets daddy’s plate and silverware. I hurry to the cabinet and climb onto the countertop as I playfully scold mama for forgetting daddy. She just stares at me, her eyes about ready to burst with tears. I kind of look at her with my head tilted like a kitten and innocently ask her what’s wrong. All she utters is “He’s not coming, honey.” I begin to choke up with tears as my screams echo through the house. “He’s coming back! He loves us!” Mommy holds me close to her as we both sob and she whispers to me that of course he loves me and my sister. She whimpered about how his love for his children would never change. We sit together on the dirty kitchen floor until dinner is cold and the moon is high in the sky.