I catch her eye, she winks at me. I giggle. My father’s stern glance over his newspaper stresses the importance of tact. We watch as he puts on his shoes, picks up his briefcase, and gets in the car to leave for work.
“I’ve got the keys”, Mother says
“I’ve asked the door man to call the cab” I confirm
I grab my spectacles, mother tucks her purse under her arm, and we storm down the stairs, into the waiting cab. I smile contently as I feel the wind in my hair.
“I have the best mother in the world” I think as we wait in line to buy the tickets for the new feature film.
“You want ninth row from the screen?” The cashier asks; he knows us well.
We find our way to our seats. Two hours, and we’ll be back, and Father will be none the wiser.