My Mother, My Teacher

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“Mom tells me you helped her with the laundry today,” he said. “And you home sick from school?”

I looked down at the floor and watched Dad as he nodded his approval. He gave my shoulder a squeeze.

“How is school going?” he asked.

“It’s going good,” I said. “Mom is helping me… She’s a great teacher.”

A pan rattled as it fell in the sink. Dad smiled, patted me on the back, then turned to Mom. She was still hovering over the sink, still washing the dishes.

“I gotta go,” I said, jerking my thumb towards my room. “Homework… Good to see you, Dad.” He gave me a wink and a nod as I left.

I slowly climbed the stairs. I could hear Dad’s voice and the sound of running water. I waited at my door until I Dad’s booming voice began to tell Mom all the things that went wrong on his trip. I closed my door, got undressed, and crawled into bed. Unable to even think of jacking off, I fell asleep and dreamed about the next time my dad was out of town.

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