“Where you going, Son?” His father's voice startled him from behind.
But, Danny just stared at his shoes and didn't answer.
“Are you taking any money with you?”
The boy nodded then pulled a wad of bills from his pant pocket. “Grandma gave me some.”
“You know, Son, we wish you would come home.” His father cleared his throat.
“It’s not fair," Danny yelled. “You don’t love me anymore.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way, but we do love you, ” he said quietly. “If you leave we will miss you.”
Danny pursed his lips as a big tear ran down his cheek. “Why did you tell me no?”
“Sometimes… fathers have to say no,” he said. “Are you hungry?”
“So where are you going?”
“I don’t know - I can't cross the street yet.” He pouted. “I'm going to wait for the school bus to pick me up.”
“You won’t go to school until next year." His father sighed then held out his hand. "We talked about this.”
“That’s not fair.” The boy stomped his foot then surrendered his five-year-old hand to his father’s.
“Not everything is fair. Do you even know what fair means?"
Danny looked up with his big blue eyes and shook his head.
His father bent down to Danny's level and lifted him into his arms. "Let's go back in the house and have a snack and a story before bedtime.”