His mother continued washing the dishes. Jaime was
getting more and more flustered as time went by. He
thought perhaps if he was more polite, his mother
would pay attention. He organized his thoughts and
directed them to his mother again.
May I have milk please, Mommy? he thought as
clearly as he could.
Still no response. Maybe it was all a game people
played that he didnt understand. He organized his
words again and did his best to speak with a
squeaky little out-loud voice.
Mother, may I please have a glass of milk? he said,
mimicking people hed heard being polite.