Every afternoon, after school, there are five minutes in the car.

Five minutes that I care about more than I probably should.

When they were younger, in preschool, they couldn’t really tell me what happened during the day.
We were still working on communication.

But I still wanted to know everything.

Did they eat?
Did they cry?

In the car, I would ask,
“Were you happy today?”

If I heard “yes,” something inside me settled.

Sometimes there was no answer.

I knew they weren’t ignoring me.

Still, I felt like I was asking too much.

Around first grade, things changed.

They started to talk more.

Most days, they said,
“It was a good day.”

But I always wanted to know:
“Who did you play with?”

Now things have changed again.

“Mom, two questions only.”

She says too many questions give her a headache.

I was a little surprised.

A little disappointed.

But also… I almost laughed.

It sounded like she knew exactly how to deal with me.

Now I choose my two questions carefully.

The rest, I wait for.