Mom Is

The two of us in the car

Stopped at a red light
On the way home
When her phone rings,
Making the little

Ding-da-da-ding-da-da-di-ding-ding sound.

I say, MOM! You know you can turn the volume off
If you would prefer not to pick up.

She curtly replies:
‘Si pero ni quiero hacer eso mijo.’

(It’s not true. She just forgets where the button is.)

We drive along with the Ding-da-da-ding-da-da-di-ding-ding

The concert of being next to her.

J.T.

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J.T.

Born and raised in the Los. Los Cuentos. J.T.

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