Nick was in bed, still feeling very angry and sad, and a little guilty, too wound up to fell asleep. He usually was a very good boy, but that night he had not behaved himself. The five year old had complained about everything. It had all started after Mrs Burk, Mike's mom, had driven him home from school. He had felt strange. Sometimes he did. He could not understand why, but sometimes he felt fear. In order to avoid trouble, Nick had kept by himself. He had played quietly in his room. Lost in his world made of legos and playmobils, he had totally forgotten anything else, homework included. It was not like him, so, when his mom rang the bell to call him to dinner, he gasped in horror. He took his spelling paper out and quickly did it. It was not as neat as usual, but he had done it. He skipped downstairs, just to be told off again fro being late and for running down the staircase. By now, Nicholas was really fed up and when he discovered there was soup for dinner, his least favorite food ever, he started complaining of a stomach ache. His mum did not buy that, and started nagging him. Nick had burst into tears and had refused eating. Anne had complained about a headache and had gulped down a few pills, but had forced Nick to eat the soup. When the soup had finally gone, it was bedtime already, but Nick was too angry and started a real tantrum. His mum had to drag him to the upstairs bathroom to give him a bath. Of course the water was too hot. Ann added some cold water, and Nick complained it was too cold. Ann did not mind and washed the boy. Then Nick tried and refused to clean his teeth because the toothpaste tasted moldy and it was bitter, so Ann, who was loosing her patience, had to clean her five year old's teeth. Then it was the Pj's that was not good enough: it was blue, and Nick wanted the red one that was in the laundry. Anne lost it and slapped the boy on his bottom, right as her husband had appeared on the kid's bedroom door. Nick knew he was doomed. Burton ordered him to get in bed and stop that stupid tantrum right away. Anne left the room. As Nick put his pajama on, Burton looked around the room and told the boy off for leaving his toys around and for his lousy homework paper, then he switched the light off and closed the door, hearing his parents' angry voices from downstairs and just knowing they were talking about him, how bad he had behaved.
Back in the kitchen Burton and Anne were arguing. Burton could not tolerate Anne, or anyone else, hitting his son. Anne had complained that the boy had been naughty all day long, a real brat, but Burton would not believe it. 'He's the best behaved child in the world, Anne. For God's sake, it was just a tantrum. He's had, how many, three throughout his life?' Anne insisted Nick had driven her crazy, but Burton had looked at her with contempt. 'It's not Nick that will drive you crazy, Anne. It's the pills you take.' Ann had retorted that she had been prescribed those pills by a doctor, but her husband had snorted . 'Anne, do not insult my intelligence. It's me who's gone to the pharmacy one week ago to get your refill. Both the anti-depressant and the sleeping pills boxes are almost empty. Anne, you've used a month's dosage in a week. And, the scotch bottle is nearly empty. Again. What's the problem, Annie? Is it me?' Annie snapped for the second time. 'Of course, it's you! Can't you see it? I'm always alone in this house. I have to take care of the housekeeping, I have to take care of Nick, and you…- the rage in her eyes almost frightened her husband- you are never here. You come home late and you just see a blond cherub. But you're not here during the day. You don't know how tiring your son is. Because you are always there, downtown, in that fucking office of yours. The firm. Something you are proud of. We, we just make you ashamed. Your pill freak wife and your useless son.' Burton fought hard not to walk from that. He knew it was not Anne speaking. It was all that dope and booze inside of her that made her talk like that, and he tried to soot her. 'First of all, that fucking office of mine is the one that allows our son to attend the 8000 bucks a year school, that allows our son to have sufficient school uniform items and a library that a small town could only dream of. His room looks like Santa Claus's factory and he can attend swimming and piano classes. We have a big home in a quiet neighborhood where he can roam freely without us needing to worry about him getting hurt. We take summer trips to fancy places every year. We can afford the best health care possible. And you can be pampered instead of working 12 hour shifts somewhere awful. Second, I'm not ashamed of you, nor I am ashamed of our son. On the contrary, I'm really proud of both of you. Nicholas is a very good boy, everyone tells us so. The occasional tantrum won't change that. And you are the one who is raising him that well .'. By now Anne was sobbing and promising Burton she would stop taking the pills and getting drunk. Burton hugged her tight and told her he knew she would.
Before going to bed that night, Burton went to his son's bedroom. Nick was fast asleep, sucking avidly on his thumb. Burton pulled the child's thumb out of his mouth, then he leaned and tenderly kissed his forehead, wondering how much of the shouting the boy had heard and understood.
The next day Burton woke Nicholas early. 'You have to redo your spelling paper before I go to work. I need to see you've done it properly. Next you'll clear this mess. Your mum does not have to clean it for you. Your room is your responsibility. When you're finished, you can come down to breakfast.' The five year old nodded and apologized for his behavior, than he went straight to work. His spelling paper was done in a jiffy, and soon after his toys had disappeared into their boxes in the closet. When his dad came back everything was perfect and Burton smiled approvingly. 'That's my boy.' Nick smiled back. All the fear had disappeared, and when he went downstairs and found pancakes and warm syrup on the table, he knew Burton had really forgiven him. He felt happy.