A Memory of My Beloved

There was a time, that I do recall.
It may have been Winter or the Fall.
Coming home late, in early morning hours,
It was beginning to rain, more like showers.
The oldest son, had a newspaper route,
So I decided to wake him and help out.
The papers were delivered to our front door,
So I brought them in, to lay on the floor.
Folding the papers, to protect from the rain,
Was the routine, that I did now maintain.
I was down on my knees, this early day,
When my wife's voice, I heard say,
"What do you think you're doing there?"
My reply was, "Taking our son on his route."
Her voice came back to me, "In your suit?"
My response, not the best, "It's a classy neighborhood."
Out on the route, I took our young son,
Delivering papers, until it was done.
Back to the house, to shower and change
And drive back to work, in my mélange.
As I recall that there was no discussion
For the next several days.