The snot nosed child that’s crying behind me doesn’t know pain quite like his mother does. With his six or seven siblings seated around him, he’s got no inkling as to what life’s got in store for him. Or maybe he does.
Is he aware that his mother’s food stamps are running low?
That the rent has yet to be paid?
School clothes will have to be borrowed?
Mother will have to haggle his father for support?
Maybe the snot nosed child that’s crying behind me knows all too well what the fates have thrust upon him and his six or seven sibling. It seems the whole lot should have sniffles, including Mama. But he takes it upon himself to cry for them all.
What a responsible young martyr.