Omar Jenkins and I went way back. The awkward brat with the thick Michigan accent had matured into a tall, brawny young brother. What are you doing in...Ottawa? I asked him. I got kicked out of Ryerson so I came to Carleton University, Omar said with a grin. Same old Omar, I smiled. We stood there talking, and next thing I knew, the number four bus came. We hopped on, and then sat in the back ( just like old times ) of the packed bus to catch up. I hadn’t seen this dude in a minute and I was real. When it wasn’t a school morning the girls never got out of bed before 10 or 11am, well, the exception was Christmas morning when they were up at the crack of dawn too. Clothing had always been pretty much optional around our home during the long, hot summer months, Clarisse ran around in T-shirts with nothing on under them but a G-string, I ran around in my loose fitting boxer shorts, while the girls ran around in their Walt Disney PJ’s. On the morning of our birthdays she came down to. More

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