Bad Games

20



Carrie wanted chicken fingers. Caleb wanted a cheeseburger. Lorraine and Norman would eat anything put in front of them if it meant appeasing the Babysitting Gods and keeping the children happy. So the primary goal was as straightforward as straightforward gets: locate a restaurant that serves both chicken fingers and cheeseburgers.

“I think Charlie’s will have chicken fingers and burgers,” Norman said.

Lorraine nodded. “I’d bet on it.”

Norman clapped his hands together. “Alright then. Charlie’s it is.”

“Who’s Charlie?” Caleb asked.

Carrie turned to her brother. “He’s the one who makes our food, stupid.”

“Hey, hey—no name-calling when you’re with us,” Norman said. “Charlie is the owner. The restaurant is named after him.”

“So then who’s going to cook our food?” Carrie asked.

“I’m not sure,” Norman said.

“So it could be Charlie,” Carrie said.

“I doubt that, sweetheart. I’m sure Charlie hires people to cook for him.”

“But it could be.”

Norman chuckled and waved the white flag. “Yes, I suppose it’s possible.”

Lorraine sipped the remainder of her tea then placed the empty cup on the coffee table. “Are you two excited for the movie?”

Only Caleb nodded. Carrie decided it wiser to test the pocketbooks of their temporary guardians first. “Can we get popcorn?”

“Of course,” Norman said. “Can’t have a movie without popcorn.”

Carrie smiled, tested a bit more. “Can we get candy too?”

“No candy,” Lorraine said, settling back into the sofa. “It’s bad for your teeth.”

“That’s what Mom always says.”

“Well Mom is right. Popcorn will be enough.”

“Popcorn and soda,” Carrie said firmly. “My mouth will get dry.”

Lorraine glanced at her husband. He winked at her.

“We’ll see,” Norman said. “No promises.”

Carrie seemed to find this response acceptable, wandering out of the Mitchell’s den and into their kitchen. Caleb headed over to the sofa and jumped onto Lorraine’s lap. She let out an unavoidable “OOF!” as soon as the four-year-old landed.

Caleb appeared to find her slapstick response quite amusing and immediately began flight-preparations for a second launch. Lorraine quickly latched both hands onto his little shoulders, smiled and said, “No, no, sweetie—you’re going to make Mrs. Mitchell pee her pants if you do that again.”