RMV Part Deux

After settling my business at the RMV in Boston, I found myself in line at the Somerville Office of Traffic and Parking. Immediately in front of me was a short lady and her two kids: a trendy girl of about 12 and an impish boy around 6 years old. The boy was dancing around the pole in the center of the room and chewing on the antenna of his mother's cell phone. The girl wore a backpack purse and twirled her hoop earrings impatiently. Their mother looked exhausted and gazed absently at the floor. Every now and then she pleaded with her son in Spanish, telling him not to chew the antenna.

When we all got to the place in line that runs alongside chairs, the mother folded exhaustedly into the first one. Her daughter sat next to her and kissed her on the cheek. After they had rested a moment, the boy spun out from the pole and into the rope gates of the line, crashing himself and the gate down loudly. His head spun immediately toward his mother who scolded him and motioned him toward her. He sat next to her then and kept quiet until they all got to the window.

The mother spoke quietly, and her English was tentative as she attempted to explain her purpose to the teller. The teller responded confusedly, so the young girl leaned forward and explained her mother's business in clear, sophisticated English. She became the mediator for the rest of the affair, and the teller addressed all further questions directly to the girl.

When the lady left the window to gather their paperwork, the girl buried her nose in her armpit and scrunched up her face with a disgusted sigh. She made a breathy remark in Spanish to her mother, who let out a loud crack of laughter. This provoked her son to do the same, though I'm not sure he heard his sister to begin with.