DISCLAIMER: I do not own DOAWK.
I jumped down from the railing and sat on the ledge of Westmore High.
I hopped into my Loded Diper van and drove home. I couldn't wait to hit the sack.
Greg, Manny and Mom were already home. I grabbed a bag of potato chips (yum). I was just about to take out a handful when Mom slapped my hand.
"Rodrick, no. We're eating health food now. I have wheat crackers in the pantry."
Oh, no. Not health food. Greg, Dad and I have absolutely nothing to do with healthy food. In fact, I think that's Dad's mortal enemy.
"What? But - "
Greg looked at me, then Mom. He looked every bit as horrified as I was. "Mom, no!"
"No potato chips!" Mom tossed them into the trashcan.
Greg and I yelled both at the same time, "NO!" and dove into the wastebasket.
I got to it first, but Greg snagged it away and performed his cobra hiss. Of course, I'm not a fan of his cobra hiss, so I let him have the chips. I knew he'd share with me in times as drastic as this.
I didn't really want to sleep anymore, and I think Greg felt the same way about his video games. We ran upstairs to his room and held one of our Brother Meetings.
"What are we going to do without sweets?" Greg asked me, pacigng around the rug. "Rodrick, I've barely gone two days without a piece of chocolate!"
"Yeah, I know. Me too." I put my hands down at Greg's desk and stared into space. "But what are we gonna do?"
I waited for an idea to form in my head.
Finally, "I know what we'll do," Greg said.
"What?"
"We do extra chores for extra money..." Greg began.
"...and buy the snacks at school!" I said.
"Wait..."
"...oh yeah. They stopped serving candy." Shoot!
The door opened.
"Dad!"
"Boys! I don't believe this! Your mom..."
"We know, Dad." Greg picked up a leftover Twinkie. "This is all we have left."
Dad and I got this evil glint in our eyes.
"Guys?" Greg looked at us nervously.
We advanced on him like angry piranhas. AND ATTACKED FULL DIPER!
Greg screeched. Really, really, really loud.
"Shoot," I whispered. I'm his brother, I know, but I've never gotten used to that stupid cobra hiss.
Dad felt the same way, and we stopped attacking Greg and watched with jealousy as he ate that glorious Twinkie.
"Greg, Rodrick, I have a plan." Dad put up his hand.
He took us downstairs. Mom was just starting dinner.
"Honey? Greggy and Rod and I need a boys' night out."
Boy, leave it to Dad to think up the perfect plan! Mom is always getting after us about spending time together, and I could just feel it in my bones that she would buy it.
"How long?" Mom asked immediately.
"Oh, I don't know. An hour and a half or so, maybe."
"Really? You want to spend time with the boys?" Mom looked as though she couldn't believe it. I couldn't blame her, really. Usually, Dad can't wait to get away from us.
"Yup." Dad smiled proudly at patted Greg's head.
"Oh, that's great! Maybe I should start paying you Mom Bucks to spend time with your sons, huh?" Mom smiled, too, but it was a different kind of smile.
"NO, NO, that's fine!" Dad, Greg and I rushed out of the house, leaving Mom with Manny and his Tingy.
On the drive, Greg and I pointed out the gross license plates. I got really lucky:
P00Py2
And just as Greg was about to point out something super nasty,
"Gross!" Dad said. "Stop it!"
We pulled up to a dessert cafe. We were in seventh heaven.
"Three orders of fries, please," Dad said, "and three strawberry shakes..."
"Make mine vanilla."
"Two strawberry, one vanilla," Dad corrected himself, "and one Oreo cheesecake. Oh, and a packet of carrot sticks to go."
Greg and I stared at each other. "Why would we need carrot sticks, Dad?"
He winked at us. "You'll see."
After a huge dessert of fries, shakes, and cheesecake, we went home, but just as we were going through the driveway, you know what?
Dad opened up the Fletcher's Carrot Sticks, emptied the carrots into a trashcan, and kept the bag.
I couldn't figure out why he did that.
Until the door opened.
"Hi, boys," Mom said. Her face just lit up when she saw Dad carrying the empty carrot bag. "Oh, Frank, you got them to eat healthy food?"
"It's easy," said Dad. "All you have to do is..." He whispered something in Mom's ear that Greg and I couldn't understand.
Mom reached for the bag. "Are there any left for Manny and I?"
"Sorry, Susan," said Dad. "They're all gone."
Mom looked disappointed, but I think she was too happy about us "eating" healthy food for her mood to be down.
During bedtime, I lay around, thinking If we have a boys' night out everyday, we'll be fine.
Yeah, I'm pretty sure our family (maybe not Mom) has a lying problem.
I drifted off to sleep. Tomorrow was Saturday, and I could sleep in.