The Hundredth Day
She was listening to her messages. She opened her purse and handed me a dollar bill. “Here. It’s worth a hundred pennies.”
“But it has to be something she can hand out to the class.”
She was pushing buttons and cursing. “What do you want from me? Do the other kids’ mothers work as many hours as me? Do the other kids’ mothers have to do everything all alone?”
I can’t do anything when she gets like that. I got a scissors from the kitchen drawer and began to cut the dollar into a hundred pieces.