The beeping of the alarm, the rush of water in the bathroom, the gurgling of the coffee maker, the sweet, agitated trilling of the birds. Morning has come.
There is a ten minute bell in my mind. He has to leave by 7.20 to be in school on time. 7.30 works but he will be running into school and class. 7.45 he may scrape by without hitting the tardy list. 7.50 he is late.
7 am I knock on his door.
“Done with your shower? Are you dressed yet? Coffee and croissant downstairs. Do you have everything you need? Chop, chop, move it buddy!”
7.10 he descends the steps in a galloping thunder.
“hey mom, thanks for the coffee. Can we put some in the thermos?”
He gathers his back pack and takes a bite of the croissant, patting his pockets.
Thunder, thunder up the stairs.
“Forgot my headphones.”
He is putting a folder in his back pack.
“Shit! “
Thunder, thunder down the stairs to the basement. Computer clacks on, printer wheezes.
“Shoot, mom, its 7.20. Got to rock and roll.”
Bang! The kitchen door closes, the garage door creaks up.
Bang! Thunder, thunder up the stairs.
“Forgot to put my dress shoes in. Have to return them to the band room.”
Bang! Car door slam.
Car door slam. Bang!
“Forgot my phone on the counter. Have voice lesson after school. See you, Mom.”
Bang! Car rev. Garage door creaks shut.
My mom called it a herd of elephants. I prefer Garth Brooks. I will miss the thunder roll.
Anita Raturi 