I glanced at the clock yet again.
“Please,” I thought, “hit one-thirty.”
Soon my teacher was grabbing my shoulder.
“Your father is here for you, Aram.”
I jumped out of my seat, picked up my book-bag and ran to the lower school office where my father was waiting.
“Where are you headed?” my principal asked.
Before my dad could finishing saying “the doctors office,” I yelled, “a baseball game!” The principal glared at my father. We didn’t care.
I was going to Opening Day. My first Opening Day.
I can’t remember what I ate for lunch yesterday, but I can remember every single detail of that Opening Day.