At the sound of his voice, I turn to find Carter walking into the room rubbing sleep from one eye. He kisses my cheek as he steps around me and kneels down to Gavin’s level.
“Gavin, what was our rule?” Carter asks while Drew clutches his junk, alternating between coughing and making some strange whining noise that reminds me of the sound a balloon makes when you pinch and stretch the opening of it and slowly let the air out.
“No nut shots before lunch,” Gavin replies solemnly.
“Right, no nut shots before lunch. And do you know what time it is?” Carter asks.
“I can’t tell time,” Gavin states.
“Have you had lunch yet?” Carter asks.
“No.”
“Then it’s before lunch. Tell Uncle Drew you’re sorry.”
Gavin sighs and turns to face Drew who has finally stopped moaning and is in the process of getting back to his feet.
“I’m sorry I shot you in the nuts before lunch,” Gavin mumbles. “Can I have some cereal now?” he asks as he looks at me and away from Drew.
“Sure, baby,” I tell him with a smile as I take his hand and walk him toward one of the kitchen chairs. I take one look at the table and veer us in the direction of a bar stool at the island instead. I need to bleach Drew’s ass from that table before we ever eat there again.
“My testicles are sitting in my stomach right now. How can you even think about cereal?” Drew asks as he limps over to the counter and grabs his keys.
“Your tentacles are dumb and I’m hungry,” Gavin replies around a mouthful of Lucky Charms as I finish pouring the milk in his bowl.
“Whatever, kid. Thanks for letting me crash, guys. I’m gonna make like a fetus and head out.”
I let out a big sigh when the door closes behind Drew.
“The next time I find him asleep on any piece of furniture in this house, I’m taking it out on you,” I tell Carter.
He comes up behind me and wraps his arms around my waist and places a kiss to the curve of my neck.
“Deal,” he replies as he rests his chin on my shoulder.
“You realize you made a rule with your son that states he has permission to punch people in the nuts after lunch, correct?”
“Yeah. It sounded good at the time when I made the rule. He had just shown me for the second time the power of his punch, and I was crippled on the ground at the park at the time, so I might not have had full brain function.”
I stand there for a few minutes, enjoying the feel of Carter’s arms around me as we watch our son scarf down his breakfast.
“I want to have your parents over for dinner,” I told him as I turn in his arms and rest my hands against his chest. “I want to cook something really delicious, ply them with alcohol and chocolate, and make them like me. Or at least drunk enough to forget why they don’t.”
Carter chuckles and tightens his arms around me.
“Babe, they like you. I swear. My grandma even said you had spunk.”
“That’s old person speak for ‘she’s bat shit crazy and I’m afraid I’ll bust a hip just being in the same room with her when I beat her ass.' I need a chance to make a better first impression,” I explain.
“Your FIRST, first impression was just fine. You’re forgetting who my best friend is. The first time they met Drew he crashed at our house one night in high school. My mom found him sleepwalking in the middle of the night. She walked into the living room and he was peeing on the couch. Believe me, they’ve seen it all,” Carter reassures me.
“Drew is a moron. He shouldn’t be allowed in public without a leash and a handler. I am the mother of their grandson. I shouldn’t be talking about a whale’s vagina on their Facebook pages. I should be posting pictures of their grandson at a museum studying the works of Michelangelo and posting status messages about my philanthropic work like holding babies in orphanages and hugging homeless people.”
Carter stares at me quizzically for a few minutes.
“Will you say something?” I demand.
“Sorry, I’m just trying to figure out if you’re serious or not.”
“Why the hell wouldn’t I be serious? I could totally be that person. I could be that person and you wouldn’t even know it,” I tell him indignantly as I cross my arms in front of me.
“Oh, I’m pretty sure I would notice if you suddenly turned into a completely different person,” he tells me with a laugh.
“Are you saying I’m not a nice person? That I wouldn’t cuddle a strange baby or make a homeless guy feel special? Because I would totally do all of that. Maybe I’ve already been doing it behind your back. Maybe instead of going to the dentist the other day I went to a PETA meeting and threw fake blood on rich people wearing fur. Maybe Gavin has been learning French at night while you’re at work.”
I crane my neck behind me to look at Gavin.
“Hey, say something in French,” I tell him.
“I like french fries,” he tells me as he looks up from his cereal bowl with milk dripping down his chin.