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2 | Drop-Off ETHAN

On the walk to school, there’s a dad I see. He has shaggy surfer hair and wears flip-flops in winter.

Some days, I envy his chill. Some days, I think he’s deranged.

But he and his son are always smiling. Hands in their pockets, they saunter.

My kid and I trudge.

Waiting for the light to change, I catch myself frowning. I review my mental to-do list:

Do not forget to buy the school sweatshirt.

Do not forget the sweatshirt.

Do not forget—

Holy shit. I’m a grown man! I will not forget the fucking sweatshirt.

Just don’t forget the fucking sweatshirt.

“Dad!” barks my third grader. “Hello?”

I look up. The light has changed. But I am standing still.