A Day in a Life of a Foster Parent

He lookes at me coldly and cracks his knuckles. " I need to go to the bathroom" Hr announces. I lead him and his sister around the crowd and into the back hall where they both immidiately take off. I Catch his sister first slinging her over my arm and pinning her to a chair.
I grab for him as he runs by and she gets lose, about to take off again but grabbed by strong arms. "No ya don't!" My best friend kids her as I chase her brother. Finally I catch him, sitting with him in my lap he struggles to get lose. I wrap my arms around him tightly,
"Please" I whisper into his ear. He listens. He stops fighting and I loosen my grip on him. He picks up my hand and holds it in his own small, warm hands. He plays with my fingers, studies them. He cracks my pinky then looks up at me, amused. He continues to crack my fingers, seeing how far he can bend them back.
My open hand opened a new world, a new relationship. Potito learned to trust me, maybe because I didn't pull away from him. I trusted that he would not hurt me. He learned to listen to me, and after that night I never recieved another cold look from him. I learned a lot from him. Whenever I miss my little potito I crack my knuckles, but it is not the same as when he did it, and I know that it never will be.