Morning Thoughts

I woke up thinking about prison.

Two days ago, I had the opportunity to watch the son of our neighbor who's in prison. It was a hand-off; the van driver for his school gave him to me, I watched him for an hour, and then his grandmother came to pick him up and keep him until his mother came home. I gather that they usually have someone available at home, but this day did not.

He's a very serious little boy. While he played with Legos, and I occasionally read a book, we talked about how Legos work, about whether Santa is real (his take is: Probably not), and what it's like to own a dwarf hamster (don't ever let them get away from you; you will not find them until they're ready to be found). I don't know if he was always serious; I suspect his somewhat chaotic home life might be contributing to that, though I don't know. I was glad for the chance to help our neighbor, but it did give me time to think about what it's like for the son, too -- and for the father. He's barely through the first year in jail, and the way the law works, he is not eligible for parole. Four more years, easily.

Somber thoughts on a rainy Saturday morning.