“Isaac, don’t throw your dirty socks at me.”
“But, Mommy, I want to play.”
Laying on my back, I turned my head to see my five-year-old son staring at me with big pleading eyes. He was the spitting image of his father, the man that I had loved who had left me five years ago leaving me with a newborn child. Shutting my eyes, I tried to block out the flood of painful memories.
“Mommy, can we play?”
“Yes, dear. Go grab your cars.”
As Isaac scurried out of the room bumping into furniture, I sat up. Working nights tended to be difficult on a person; however, it was the only way that I could spend time with my precious boy. Thankfully, caring for the elderly usually wasn’t that difficult. Every once in a while, Room 234 gave me a couple of issues but that was rare and far between.
Isaac toted his bag full of hot wheel cars into the small living room. Our apartment consisted of one bedroom, kitchen, bathroom, and a small living space. For a single mom, it wasn’t bad. It helped that my brother had been friends with the owners of the building. Running my hand through my hair, I felt the greasy residue of not having showered for a couple of days on my hand.
“Hmmm. Mommy needs a shower, Isaac.”
“Noooooooooo. I wanna play cars!”
“Okay, let’s play.” Playing cars allowed us both to escape into a world where there were no tired mommies and no bad little boys. Together, we just got to enjoy life through colored pieces of metal.
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