Black gloves, sandwich and an unnamed girl

Earlier, I accompanied my youngest son to look for a pair of black gloves in the nearby market. They'll be having a field demonstration tomorrow and the kids were asked to don a black costume. I was preparing myself for bed when he asked me about the black gloves. I have completely forgotten about the gloves. I even went to the mall after work but the black gloves escaped me. I felt so guilty because I promised to get him one.

I scoured the closet and looked for a black piece of cloth. Luckily, I found one. Then I went to the laundry room and got some old rubber gloves. The rubber gloves will serve as my pattern. I have decided that I'm going to sew a pair of gloves from scratch. I know it might take me forever to finish it but I've got no choice. I was too tired and sleepy to go out.

My son saw what I was planning to do. He looked worried. He suggested that I look for the white gloves he used last year and soak them in black food coloring to spare us from making that trip to the market (read: and to prevent me from creating the most horrible black gloves). That said, I felt guiltier. I got up on my feet, dressed up and told my son that we're going to the market. And off we went.

After checking out 4 stores, we found a Chinese store selling black gloves! My kid tried it on and it was a perfect fit. By then, it was almost 4 in the afternoon and way past my bed time. Hurriedly, we headed towards the terminal for our ride back home. Halfway through the terminal, hunger pangs struck me. I saw a sandwich stall nearby and asked my kid if he wanted to grab something to eat, too. He nodded and said that he wanted a ham and egg sandwich. And so I ordered two.

While waiting, a little girl, obviously panhandling, was asking a peso from me. At first I ignored her. It's not my habit to give alms but she was insistent and perhaps hungry. Instead of giving her money, I ordered another sandwich. My son scowled then asked me why I was ordering another one. I didn't answer. A few more minutes of waiting then we finally got our orders. I took one sandwich from the plastic bag then handed it over to the little girl. She beamed then thanked me. My son looked at me then to her, as she walked away from us. I told him that other people are not as lucky as him - he can eat at his whim and not worry about when the next meal would be. He hugged me tight after. "Let's go home."