Moral Devotions

4| Macy

"I wanna wear this one, Mama." Axel points to the tan sweater that's laid out on the bed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He nods and runs over to his dresser. Reaching up, he grunts. "I can't reach."

"What do you want, baby?"

"A hat."

I walk over to the dresser and grab one of the small baseball caps, that matches best with his outfit, and hand it to him. Axel runs back to the bed, lays it beside his outfit for the day, and smiles proudly.

"Look Mama, it matches!"

We've been working on picking out outfits with minimal help for a couple of weeks now. At first, all he wanted to wear was superhero costumes or pajamas.

"It does, buddy. I'm proud of you! Now, do you want pancakes or blueberry waffles?"

"Yes." He says and I laugh.

"Which one?"

"Umm... Both."

I run my fingers through his blonde bedhead and tell him, "I'll make waffles."

After sitting him down at the table with a blueberry waffle, I walk into my room to get dressed.

"I got dressed, Mama!" Axel comes running into the bathroom as I'm putting my earring in.

I take one look at him and giggle. "Bubba, your pants are backward." I bend over and pull the collar of his sweater out and see a brand and size tag. "And your sweater."

I help put his clothes on the right way before grabbing our bags and heading out the door.

"Are you excited to play with Alex?" I ask as I lock the front door of our apartment.

"Yes!" Axel jumps and I smile softly.

"Okay, let's go." I grab his little hand in mine and we head for the stairs.

Axel grabs onto the railing with his free hand and takes one step at a time. "There you go buddy, you got it." He jumps off the last step and onto the landing.

Axel gasps and turns to me. "I don't have my dinosauruses."

*

"So if 'Olivia' is the subject, then what's the correct pronoun?"

"Her." The class answers and I smile.

"See, it's easy. Go ahead and answer questions one through eight on page sixty-one." The sound of book pages flipping fills the room as every student has their attention now focused on their workbook.

I sit down behind my computer and begin to open emails.

"Miss Robertson?" A male voice whispers. I look up to find A.J. standing in front of my desk with his phone in his hand. "Could I talk to you about something?"

"Sure, A.J." I stand up and lead him out into the hallway. "What's going on?"

He sighs and I swear, I see tears fill his eyes. "I got this message on Instagram, this girl was threatening to send pictures to my mom."

My heart drops. "What kind of pictures?"

"Dick pics..." I ignore the fact that my student just said that word and focus on the problem at hand. "She said if I didn't pay her a certain amount of money she'd send them to my mom. Miss Robertson, I've never even taken a picture like that, I swear." Now he's crying. "I only had thirty-three dollars, so I sent it to her but I think she'll still send the pictures."

I press my lips together. "A.J., why would you send her money?"

"Because I was scared."

"Of pictures that aren't even yours?"