Davey was up on the counter, not two feet away. He knelt on all fours, and a long pink strand of bubblegum oozed out of his mouth.
“An’ den da momma give da baby bird da worm, and da worm all chewed up!” he babbled as the gum dangled ever closer to the countertop.
Just then, Jeff walked into the room. The shock of seeing his son reenact a Discovery Channel program (and one about the feeding habits of another species, at that) caused Jeff to stop at the kitchen doorway and watch in horror.
“An’ den da baby go ‘cheep cheep cheep!’ an’ – ”
GLOOP! The chewing gum shot back into Davey’s mouth with one liquid slurp.
“Da baby all full! Mm-mmmm, good eatin’!”
Davey looked up from the kitchen counter. He and Jeff stared at each other for a long second.
“Davey…”
“Yeah Dad?”
“That was really disgusting.”
Jeff walked over to the counter and ruffled Brian’s hair, then looked down at the drawings. Same as always: tiny little monsters. One-eyed fairy tale freakazoids. Baby dinosaurs. Strange cartoon weirdos.
Jeff sighed. Always the same thing. He looked worriedly at Brian. His son had always been withdrawn, but lately it had gotten much worse. He rarely spoke. Besides his younger brother, those drawings were Brian’s only companions.
“Daaaaaaaaad,” Davey interrupted, “I had to feed the baby breakfast!”
“Yeah, well, you almost made me lose mine.”
“All – uh – over – bruh – ”
Davey made dry heaving noises and swung around towards his brother. Tottering up on his knees, he suddenly faked the ol’ heave ho with reckless abandon, launching an air barf mere inches away from –
“BRIAN! BLAAAAAAAHHHH!!!”
Brian never looked up. Just kept on drawing.
Being ignored didn’t bother Davey one bit. He sat back on his rear end, smacked his lips, and scrunched his face up in distaste.
“Yuck. Feeding babies is nasty.”
Jeff looked up from pouring a glass of orange juice. “What baby?”
Davey looked at his father like, What, are you blind?! and gestured at the countertop.
“Petey!”
Jeff looked down where Davey was pointing. Nothing there, except some crumbs from somebody’s last snack.
“Um…Petey?” Jeff asked.
Davey’s disbelief became exasperation. “MY BIRD!”
“I don’t see a bird.”
“You have to look a little harder than that, Dad. He’s small, he’s a baby.”
Jeff had to fight to keep a straight face. “Yeah, well, I only see one baby here.”
Davey’s face registered confusion, then horror, then indignation, all in one second flat. “I’m not a – ”
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Copyright © 2008 Darren Pillsbury. All rights reserved.
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