It's Not Our Fault

It was always hectic this time of the morning. He had to be fed breakfast, washed up and dressed for school in less than hour.  She could get up earlier, but she got very little sleep as it was. He was splashing his spoon in the bowl of cereal she had placed on the table in front of him.

“ Come on, Sam, you have to eat, so stop playing, please.”

“ I don’t like this kind, I want pops like on TV.”

“ Maybe next week when we go shopping. Right now that is all we’ve got so pretend it’s pops and eat up. I can’t be late again.” She was late last week one day and the same the week before. Some mornings she was just so tired she couldn’t motivate him to hurry and like most children his age, he would dawdle in the morning if allowed. Her warning about being late caused him to frown a little but he started eating. He wasn’t old enough to fully understand her warning but he did sense her fear so he ate. She smiled at her blonde son as he ate his breakfast. Six years old already, she thought to herself. He was her pride and joy. She went to bed at night worrying about him and started her day every day helping him with his. First grade was a thrill for him and a big help to her. He was in school all day so she saved on childcare. He had friends and things to do and learn so that she felt he was getting a positive life experience even if she couldn’t be there for him as much as she’d like. She had a full time job and worked part time also but the money didn’t go far. His father was never in the picture, she had recieved child support for lesss than a year and then it stopped when he left the state. She had filed papers with the Court but they had so many cases and nobody seemed much to care. Maybe someday she thought.