It's fiction dontcha know. If you've made it this far, you were probably invited. Enjoy the writing process with me and feel free to leave feedback.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

"You Girls Wanna Go To Grandpa's House?

Grandma’s making chicken, and potatoes, and macaroni and cheese!” He sing-songed.

“Yay!” Jess cheered. Chloe rubbed her baby fist in her eyes having just come out of the nap, hair ruffled into a blonde puff.

“Jess is ready to go,” I said. “and I’ll change Chloe and brush her hair. They’re ready for dinner.”

“Well, I just got here. Can I sit down or is that against some new house rule?” Byron poked.

I was tired of boxing with him. If I could have just clicked my heels together three times and he would turn into a nice wingback chair, it would be a better day. Instead of wasting another mouthful of words, I gave him an exaggerated, “Oh, won’t you sit down?” gesture with a sweep of my right arm and scooped Chloe up on the finish.

Twenty minutes later, the kids were fresh and ready to go. I rounded the past the entryway and found Prince Charming draped across the loveseat in a slack-jawed, sleeping heap. The remote was still in his flacid hand as the local newscaster predicted rain for tomorrow afternoon. I snatched the remote from him and clicked the TV off. He pushed both arms over his head and groaned through a sleeping dog stretch.

“Man, what time is it? I must’ve fallen asleep.” He said squinting into the kitchen at the microwave’s digital clock.

“The kids are waiting on you, I’m getting them into the car.” I said.

I tucked the girls into the back seat of the car, buckled them in, and faked my way through a happy send-off to Grandpa’s house. I’ve never been a fan of his parents for reasons greatly numbered and just the sight of his father triggered a bad taste in my mouth. His lack of common discretion was near the top of the list. Speedo’s on a fifty-six year old man with the body shape of a slovenly, Silverback Gorilla is something no person should be subject to view unless they suffer from some sort of obscure fetish. Even then, I think it should be federally regulated.

I waved to the girls as he sped away down the street and thought about how much better things would have to be tomorrow.


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