Read this passage from "An Hour with Abuelo” by Judith Ortiz Cofer.Then with her pushing the wheelchair – maybe a little too fast – they roll down the hall. He is already reading from his notebook, and she’s making bird noises. I look at my watch and the hour is up, to the minute. I can’t help but think that my abuelo has been timing me. It cracks me up. I walk slowly down the hall toward the exit sign. I want my mother to have to wait a little. I don’t want her to think that I’m in a hurry or anything.