And I am flawed
But I am cleaning up so well
I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself
-Dashboard Confessional

i heard a car door close, and a familiar voice. kaiser barked. i grinned.

mom was home.

me and the boys gathered round her, taking turns in welcoming her back. she looked exhausted, but pretty happy. then we began the ritual of unloading her luggage.

there was a gift bag of lindt chocolate and we spared no time in attacking one of the bars. there were also a couple of boxes of after eight, which are sure to go fast. lots of coffee and tea, with a bottle of bailey's, the family faves. some wierd looking good luck charms, belts, bracelets, and a bird whistle. and a stuffed cow. that moos. we named it mad (from "mad cow"). he's the family mascot.

over halo-halo and buchi, mom told us stories of her trip. she had to write a forty page report. with all the material she had, she could write three-hundred fifty. she had plenty to tell. of how mothers cried over how there were gonna feed their kids. of how little boys had to walk miles to a market and back in the early morning to make just enough to survive another day. of how girls my age get kidnapped, sold out by their own best friends, to be brides for chinamen. of how fathers give away their daughters to pay for their debts. of how there are a thousand deaths on the road in vietnam coz of reckless, apathetic motorists. thats a higher death rate than in the war.

mad: *moos*
kaiser: *scampers away*
us: *laughs*