It’s the middle of the week, and both the Bean and I have just arrived home after yet another glorious day in California traffic.
As usual, The DragonMonkey is making loud, noisy laps around the house.
“Eeeeee! Hahahahahahahahah! Kick doggie! Hahahahahahaha! EEEE!!! EEE!!”
In a perfect, 1950s world I’d be donning my apron, patting my perfectly coiffed hair, and getting ready to lovingly prepare a healthy, nutritious, and delicious warm meal for my family.
Unfortunately for The Bean, this is 2011 and I ain’t no June Cleaver.
“Hey Bean,” I holler, trying to be heard over the racket the DragonMonkey is making. “Grab a hotdog out of the fridge for the DM. It’s dinner time.”
Hot dogs are considered healthy, delicious, and nutritious, right?
Please don’t answer that.
“We’ve only got one,” The Bean hollers back. “What else do we give him?”
“Ummmm…..” Let’s see… rice takes too long… I’ve cooked fish three times this week…. I did chips yesterday….. Ah-ha! “Applesauce. Give him some applesauce.”
There. Protein and fruit. Maybe it’s not a culinary masterpiece, but it’s gluten-free and filling. Yay for me.
From the living room, the Squidgelet begins to whimper quietly. Hello? Hello? Has everyone forgotten about me?
I flatten myself against the wall, preparing to push myself between the Bean and open refrigerator door and the narrow kitchen doorway so I can go pick him up.
Thoughtfully, the Bean shuts the door slightly, so I don’t have to actually suck in my
flabby belly beautifully toned abs to squeeze past. I shoot him a smile, but he seems distracted.
As I scoot past him, I see the door jerk in my direction… once, twice… accompanied by a muted “Pa-choo! Pa-choo!”
I stop, and stare at the Bean incredulously.
“Did you…Did you just pretend to hit me with the refrigerator door? Complete with cartoony sound effects?”
The Bean flushes, and his eyes drop guiltily.
“Why? What on earth would make you do that?”
He shrugs like a teenager, still eyeing the floor guiltily. “I dunno. It just seemed like it would be fun. Like a videogame, or something.”
Actual Excerpt from Gmail Chat:
They never grow up, do they?