And Her Mom Wasn’t Even Mad About the Motorcycle

Most days this summer, the 15-year-old Scout

Is with her friends at a place by Lake Michigan

That they ominously call "The Ledge."

One day last week I suggested she skip The Ledge

And play hooky with me, instead.

We rode the motorcycle to a breakfast joint

Where the owner used to make her pancakes

In the shape of Mickey Mouse.

"Is this Scout?" he asked.

She and I talked about boyfriends and girlfriends

And whatever else she wanted to talk about.

I've rarely had so little to say.

On the way home, we took a sunny spin through Humboldt Park.

We waited at a stop sign, for a preschool class to cross.

The babies waved at us, and we waved back.