@mixtapememory
Miles sat a booth that he could only just fit in - finally tall enough to not need the booster seat - where his father told him to stay hours before. He had homework spread out on the table and a half eaten stack of pancakes next to the mess. The usual setup normally worked for him. He got all of his homework done pretty quickly - first graders didn’t tend to get too much - then he would listen to music and wait for his mom to get off work or for his dad to pick him up, whichever came first. Today though, he couldn’t for the life of him understand what was written on the pages. ‘ Simple math ‘ is what his teacher had called it. It was going right over his head.
He slid off his seat, grabbed the headache his teachers insisted was called homework, and ambled to the counter.
“ Mama ? “