A week later...

You came from school. The day was hard: You got pushed around again and the bullies started making fun of you and how your dad was now in jail. You greeted your Mom out loud. Isaiah's voice surprised you, as he greeted you back from the kitchen.

— Hello Mom, hello Isaiah... — You said, entering the kitchen.

—Hi, sweetie!

—Hi... — Isaiah sounded annoyed.

You observed your Mom's shirt wasn't right, as if she put it on in a hurry. And why was she wearing yoga pants again? She hasn't worn them in forever. One could even slightly see her underwear...

Your Mom started pulling her top down to cover her stomach while talking to you:

— How was school today?

— It went well, as always, even though my classmates… You know... They kept...

— Great! Sit down, I'm almost done — Your Mom interrupted you and kept cooking and talking with Isaiah, which couldn’t stop looking at her buttocks.

— Uh oh.. Okay, Mom — You answered.

That day, Isaiah ate at home. They talked and laughed a lot, just not with you; Isaiah kept telling your Mom how many slick, dangerous and exhilarating things he did in the past - legal, illegal, real and invented. One couldn’t just be sure. You finished eating and went to your room, feeling disgusted by the close attention your Mom gave to his big mouth.