Car Ride

Car Ride

Whenever I hear the 

The sound of the rumbling car’s engine, I am 4 years old

And have woken up from a

long, deep, nap

coming home from shopping in Willmar.

My mom comes into the garage and gently removes me from the car seat,

not to disturb my peace.

But that is not my story.

My story is my elbow popping out as soon as she touches my arm.

My screams and wails are heard from inside the house where my Dad is.

My cries of anguish serve as an unofficial welcome to my dad running outside and popping my arm back into place.