My Cardboard Balcony

The "Wasp" by Belinda Roddie The "wasp" was a lady dressed in yellow and black. No, it was not the acronym for Anglo-Saxon Protestants. No, no, she looked just like the insect. On a whim I came up with the label. But her clothes were only the beginning. She was tall and skeletal, with pointed face and nose and gangly arms. When leaned against the wall, she looked ready to bite or sting someone. I half-expected her to buzz with rage when I got her latte wrong. Then her son popped up, and he was in the larval stage! Fat as a grub, and just as squirmy. We kept quiet around that strange family.

"So...are you two..." I eyed Martin cautiously. "Are we two...?" He looked down at the floor. I could see his ears going red. "Are you two...dating?" I looked at my wife and couldn't help chuckling. That seemed to embarrass my seven-year-old student even more, so I left my shopping cart and knelt next to him. "We're married, dear," I said to him as his mother began walking down the aisle toward us.