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                 Christopher and I walked down the isles at Blockbuster, looking for something fun to watch over the upcoming weekend. A six-year-old Christopher held my hand and touched every movie he passed with his other hand, moving them all just a little bit. His hand touched a DVD that had a big blue house on the cover, and he grabbed it.             “Mom can I have this one?” he asked.             I took the movie and looked at it. The movie was called ‘House’ and on the back it had a zombie hand ringing the doorbell. I knew the movie; it was an old 80’s horror flick. I put it back on a shelf a little higher than Christopher could reach.             “Sorry baby, it’s a scary movie, it’s not for kids” I said and started walking away from the movie still holding Christopher’s hand.             “No mom, I want to watch it, please, please, please” Christopher begged.             “No babe, I said it’s not for kids” and tugged Christopher’s hand to follow me.            

              We just moved into a new house. We moved out of what we considered our hometown six years ago and were finally able to come back. That was what mattered when getting the new house; that it was in the right city. I never really gave up that we were going to come back home someday, so I never changed Michaels elementary school and we still did all our grocery shopping in the area. Either Christopher or I would make a 30-minute one way commute twice a day to drop off and then pick up Michael from school. It was important to me that I made sure Michael could stay close to his friends and teachers who knew him. We had to wake earlier, and I would get home later, but it was worth it. There were boxes, bags and dissembled furniture scattered around the whole house. The only free space was the long hallway. Every other room had furniture and everyone’s personal items cluttered about. My Daughter Michelle stood up in her crib in the bedroom we would share. There were enough ro

  Michael and I got out of the car in the Walmart parking lot. I closed the door to my silver Mitsubishi Galant and beeped the alarm twice. Once to lock the doors and again to set the alarm. Michael is seven years old and is so independent I let him roll his eyes at me when I ask him to hold my hand in the parking lot. “Come on Michael, you know the drill, not every vehicle is paying attention baby. I need to keep you safe” I tell him. “Ya, I know, I know” he said as he walked around the car to grab my hand. Michael wants to be as tall as his older brother so badly, he even walks slightly on his tip toes in order to seem taller. He has a long way to go, his older brother Christopher is sixteen years old and already 6’. Michael is 4’ exactly and has always taken more after my side of the family. Michael has shaggy dark brown hair that just barely goes past his ears, violating his school dress code; he has my dark brown eyes and olive complected skin. Michael has such an angel face