AROUND THE KITCHEN TABLE
(Bacon and Chicken Nuggets)
Aunt Susan always smells like Bacon. But the yummy kind so I don’t know why Mommy hates it when I tell her. I really like Bacon, and I really like Aunt Susan. She never tells Mommy or Aunt Janice or Mrs. Becky when I watch them all talking at the table. She is the only one who sees me when I watch cause she sits in the biggest chair that faces into the kitchen and not out the big window. Sometimes she winks at me even!
I saw them all talking this morning. I knew they must all be talking cause I heard their scary all together laugh and I smelled the bacon. Mommy was talking about daddy and aunt Janice and Mrs. Becky and Aunt Susan were all there drinking coffee and eating those muffins that are flat and come all the way from England. I don’t like them. I only like Chocolate chip muffins. I crawled into the room like an adventure girl would and hid behind the far side of the island. The silly dog kept thinking I was trying to play with him, so he was barking and licking me and I accidently giggled twice. No one except Aunt Susan heard though, so my adventure continued.
“He can be such an idiot of a man sometimes” I heard Mrs. Becky say. Aunt Janice laughed. I got up on my knees behind the island and put my hands on the counter, I raised my eyes up so I could see all the ladies. There was a fruit bowl out and I had to make sure my head was behind it enough so that I couldn’t see my own reflection in the big window behind Aunt Susan because everyone knows that if I can’t see myself then they can’t see me.
“Can’t all men?” They all laughed and the sound was like when Mommy puts too much clothes in the washing machine and the whole thing shakes really loudly. I kind of liked to hear it though.
“You can say that again sister,” That was Aunt Janice who said that to Aunt Susan, and I didn’t really understand because they aren’t sisters. “Last night, Jeff tried to tell me we couldn’t have taco salad for dinner because he’s allergic to ranch dressing.” The washing machine shook again. “Not only do I know his allergies even better than he does, but since when does taco salad have ranch on it?”
“Taco Salad doesn’t have ranch on it?” Mrs. Becky asked. I didn’t know if it did either. Me and Mrs. Becky were a lot alike.
“You must not cook, honey” Mommy said to her. The other ladies made “mmhmmm noises. “But Eddie’s been cooking a lot lately.”( Eddie’s real name is Daddy. )
“Is he any good?”
“What kind of stuff? Will the kids eat it?”
“hmm, I wish my husband would do that.”
“Well, he made me alfredo last night. Or at least that’s what he called it.” Mommy said. I didn’t know Daddy had cooked anything the night before; Mommy brought me and Gabe chicken nuggets. All the women laughed when she said that too, they were always laughing.
“Call me old fashioned, but I really don’t think men are supposed to be any good at cooking” Aunt Janice said.
“I hear you”
“Well- it all depends.”
“Whether they should be or not, they damn sure aren’t usually any good!” Aunt Susan said and then they all laughed. I didn’t really understand why they all laughed so much.
“Did you have to eat in anyways Stacey?” Aunt Janice asked. Stacey’s real name was Mommy.
“ I took a couple bites, and then-“
“What? The suspense is killing me did you just throw it out?”
“No, of course not. Tell us what you did Stace!”
I”I told him it was delicious, but I was hungry for some of his meat instead.” The other ladies screamed and giggled and hit the table. Mommy must have meant chicken nuggets, and the other women must have liked chicken nuggets as much as I did.
“Well, it sounds like you had quite the night then. Did you get your fill?”
“Course I did. Then he did some eating too. He’s a terrible cook but he is great in bed.” I knew Daddy was great in bed too, he slept really late on Saturdays. The washing machine laughter broke out again.
Mommy was smiling the way she did when Gabe and his friend’s broke a window in Old Meanyhead Mr. Dobie’s house. Gabe told her he couldn’t apologize because then all the boys would have to miss playtime letting Old Meanyhead Mr. Dobie teach them a thing of two about being brats. Gabe didn’t want to learn about being a brat and neither did his friends, they were boys not brats. If they were brats, they would only play at night and they would all be dark and have wings and vampire teeth. I didn’t blame them, and Gabe’s brilliant reasoning made her smile the same way she was smiling at her friends. That was the way Mommy always smiled when someone did something bad and then did something real good, the only thing I was confused about- was why were chicken nuggets bad, and what did Daddy have for dinner last night?
***Not my best execution or my favorite story line, but, conceptually i like the idea. I'm trying to get better at humor, though this is arguably in bad taste. It's kind of stream of consciousness and i am trying to take on a little kid narration like James Joyce mastered. Sachi and Lilly should get it, e had a free write like this once.