Just A Girl
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            It’s already seven thirty and Mom still isn’t back home from Jazzercise class. She left her current boyfriend, Larry Jackson, who my brother Nate refers to as Hairy Jackoff behind his back, in charge while she headed off to her latest fitness obsession, wearing an electric blue leotard that made her butt look big, cropped beige tights, and white high-top Reeboks. “Where’s your legwarmers, Jean?” Nate said as she strode through the den to the carport, car keys in hand. “It’s June, Nate, those are only for when it’s really cold in the Rec Center,” she said, ignoring his sarcasm. “I’ll be back long before ‘That’s Incredible’ starts.” She blew Larry a kiss and left. Outside the screen door I can see lightning bugs fl...

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