As a child Bobby would count along with her as she brushed her hair a hundred and six times, every morning. If she was interrupted by anyone or anything even if three numbers from the finishing line they would re begin from one. He couldn't remember how many times he would be late arriving at school because of this. He thought it was just a game, all for fun and nothing more. As he grew older, smarter Bobby soon realized it was more than just a silly ritual, that his mother had to do this, had to control something in a world spinning and crashing all the time within her head. If having him behind her counting along somehow helped the pain ease even more, than he wasn't going anywhere.