Before she could stop him, Lukey licked the seat in front of him. He then ran his tongue over his one tiny tooth that was growing in, as though he were savoring the bouquet. She bounced him up and down on her knee. “No, Lukey! No! What will your mother say when Yaya tells her?” Lukey giggled and smashed his face into her chest.
It wasn’t the germs she was worried about. Kids need germs. None of this Purell, Bactine, purified water nonsense. If you do that, they’ll grow up sickly and weak. Her real worry was who had sat in that particular seat since the last time they cleaned the car. It’s not like the CTA was known for shuttling around Nobel laureates. It was more likely Lukey had been lapping up the essence of a homeless person. If he ends up lazy and self-pitying, his Yaya will know why. Or worse, a schizophrenic! His mother would never forgive her for that one.
On the bright side, it could have been a college student—if Lukey was lucky, maybe even a valedictorian. She never went to college, so the idea of a university in her grandson’s future made her proud. A successful businessman, perhaps? That wouldn’t be so terrible. Then Lukey could take care of her in her even-older age.
The cocktail reception and play last night were good. I really need to learn how to schmooze better. Tonight: gogo class. Excited to shimmy and shake.