I saw them. As soon as the snow plow woke me up this morning, two hours before the alarm jolts me awake, I looked out at the accumulating snow falling. The weather channel assured no accumulation. I don’t know if all the ice melted in the driveway, now it is covered with snow.
I saw them. As soon as I walked into school to pick up my son’s report card, raggedy looking children pawing over the cookies left next to the coffee. I walked to the sixth grade corridor, more passed by. The spawn of the toothless, overweight, unkempt bearded parents with rosy cheeks. Walking back out past the cookies, another whole family leaning over the cookies, breathing and pawing. Grandad looked on as he stirred his coffee, his cheeks rosy and white beard scraggly.
I saw them. Parents much younger than me (I am old), fat legs stuffed like sausages into their jeans, waited outside the fourth grade corridor. Their stance making their feet appear at a forty five degree angle jutting sideways from their knees. I wonder if they will have a stroke when they are my age. I wonder if their knees will give out, as do mine with my legs straight down, not at an angle.
I know them. They keep falling. They don’t melt. They contaminate the cookies.