Ed - Cravings, Butter Toast, and Gravy
When Dad told me that Mom was going to give me a sibling, I asked him, "What's a sibling, Daddy?" with a toothy grin -- one of my baby teeth fell about two days before. I heard Mom laugh, but I liked making her laugh, so my feelings weren't hurt at all.
"Does it taste good?" I added, briefly, hoping it would make my Dad laugh too. Dad just looked at me with a wide grin that caused the corners of his eyes to crinkle. At least I made him smile -- that was good enough for me. "Son," he said to me.
"You're going to be a big brother." he told me, putting a hand on my shoulder and shook me, playfully. "Really, Dad!?" I could feel my cheeks starting to hurt from smiling too big. Mom would always read books to me, and some of the kids in the books were big brothers or big sisters. I could finally be just like them! Dad chuckled under his breath and patted my cheeks. "You're cheeks are pink, son." he exclaimed.
My hands started to tremble from joy and excitement. All I could do was squeeze my Dad's hand between my own two hands and run over to my mom, who was sitting comfortably in our read-to-me chair. I hugged her, and made sure no harm came to my soon-to-be sibling.
"Is my baby sibling in there, Momma?" I asked her, laying a hand gently on her tummy. Mom looked at me, her eyes twinkling like glass beads. "Uh-huh, and you know what, Ed?" she paused and smiled warmly at me, the tiny wrinkles around the corners of her lips made her look tired, but her eyes were clearly vibrant.
I arched my brows and listened intently. "You're going to make a great big brother!" she whispered softly, and kissed me on the forehead. Then she stroked my head and tucked the stray hair out of my eyes and behind my ear.
Four months went by bitterly. Mom stayed in bed all day complaining like a child -- maybe her complains were as worse as mines. Dad had to take care of all the house hold chores while I took care of Mom's cravings. The food she craved were weird -- and she would often make me eat it with her.
"Where's the gravy, Ed?" Mom wailed, pounding her fists impatiently on the bed underneath her. "Gravy? Ok." I sighed and quickly dashed down the stairs. She craved everything with gravy. Whether she wanted bananas or hamburgers, she'd always expect it to be coated with gravy.
"Eat this with me, Ed." she whimpered, as I returned to her room and handed the sandwich to her, but I shook my head politely in response. "No thanks, Mom. I don't like peanut butter and egg salad sandwich with gravy." It looked gross and it smelled pretty bad.
"We rarely have a chance to eat together anymore!" she bawled, holding the sick creation of a sandwich up to my mouth. She was lying to me again. We ate together every time I brought her food that she craved. Heck, she made me eat with her every chance she got! I sighed in defeat and took a large bite, hoping it would keep my Mom satisfied.
I smiled blankly at my Mom and nodded. Funny. The weird food she made me eat was strangely appetizing to me now -- especially the gravy. After that meal, I ate everything with gravy -- just like my Mom, and I was also enjoying the weird food my Mom ate.
A good two more months passed by, and Mom had a party called a "baby shower." I was a little confused. How can you shower a baby when it's not even born yet? Dad told me that it was a party to "shower" the baby with gifts. I kind of thought that it was stupid. What if the baby gets hit in the head by one of the gifts? I don't think I'll ever understand adults and their stupid traditions.
Another two months passed by, and Dad told me that I had to move into the basement. He said that the baby needed a nursery room. I wanted my baby sibling to have a good room, so I gladly gave it up. Besides, I don't think the basement is scary anymore. My dad and the neighbor next door moved my bed and all my other stuff into the basement for two days. The neighbor also brought his son over to our house too. He was a boy who wore a hat backwards -- pretty funny looking. He told me that he had an older brother, and I told him that I was going to be one too, but he just glared at me. I don't think he liked me too well.
I had to sleep on the couch for two nights. On the second night, my Mom came down and told me that she was craving butter toast -- with gravy, obviously.
"Do you want to eat with me, Ed?" she asked me, stroking my hair. I nodded and flashed her a toothy grin. "Uh-huh!" I squeaked and squeezed my Mom's hand tightly. Will my sibling get to squeeze Mom's hand like this, too? I asked my self and snickered under my breath. "What's so funny, dear?" Mom asked, noticing my quiet chuckles. "My baby sibling will get to hold your hand like this too, Mom!" I told her, in a hushed tone, though my excitement was audible.
Mom gave my a funny look and laughed softly. "What are you trying to say, Ed? I can't seem to understand."
I gave her a sheepish grin and let go of her hand. "That means I'm a big boy now! I shouldn't do baby stuff like holding your hand! We can leave that to the baby!" I told her, with an air of arrogance. Mom looked at me blankly, her eyes becoming shiny. I frowned and furrowed my eyebrows together. There were two things I noticed whenever she cried. Before she started crying, she would have a blank expression and then her eyes would get shiny -- then she would start crying.
"Did I say something wrong, Mom?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. Mom shook her head and went down on one knee, getting down to my height. She looked straight into my eyes and pulled my head in under her chin and squeezed me in her arms. "My Ed is growing up, and I'm making him move into the basement!" she cried out.
I felt droplets plop on the top of my head and on the collar of my pajamas. I was a little scared, what would Dad say if he found out that I made Mom cry again? "What kind of mother am I, making my son move into the basement?" she bawled, and stroked my hair. "I'm sorry, Mom. Don't cry!" I said, in a sniffled voice. "Momma, don't cry!" I begged. There was one thing that I hated the most, and it was making my Mom cry unintentionally.
Mom took in a deep breath and looked at me for a while and smiled. "Your father put a new bathtub in your room earlier today. Do you want to fill it with gravy?" she asked, her eyes twinkling playfully again. "Fill it with gravy?!" I gave my Mom a funny look, but I couldn't keep my smile hidden. I could feel my grin widening more and more as each second passed. Mom nodded and took my hand, leading me into the kitchen.
"You make the butter toast and I'll whip up a big batch of gravy." she instructed, nearly jumping from excitement.
Four hours passed, and it was way past my bed time. It was probably the latest I've stayed up. "Are you ready, Ed?" she asked me before heading down into the basement -- which was now my room. We poured the gravy into the new bathtub together -- filled nearly to the brim. Then she sat down on the floor of the bathroom. "Sit with me, Ed." she said, patting the ground next to her.
I smiled at her and quickly sat next down. She tore a slice of toasted bread in half and smothered butter on it, handing me a piece. "Here you go, Ed." she said softly, and dipped her own toast into the tub of gravy. I did the same and took a bite.
"It's good Momma!" I exclaimed rather too loudly. Mom raised a finger to her lips, gesturing for me to lower my voice. "Don't ever empty the gravy from this bathtub, ok Ed?" she told me, patting my head with her hand. "Whenever I have my cravings, we'll sit here -- just like this -- and we'll eat butter toast and gravy." she chuckled under her breath.
I took another bite and sighed. "Then how can I take a bath, Mom?" I asked, but Mom never answered my question, I assumed that I'd have to use the family bathroom upstairs.
We just sat there in my bathroom, silent time passed by sweetly as each day went by. We ate together on the bathroom floor, everyday. Each day, our conversations grew smaller and smaller, until we just ate together and nothing more. Then she squeezed my hand one day, while we were eating and yelped.
"Call your father, Ed! My water broke!" her screamed pierced right through my ear drums and echoed throughout my brain. Scared and alarmed, I ran upstairs to call my father. "Dad! Mommy's water is broken!" I quickly informed him. Dad ran downstairs, but I didn't move an inch. I was a little confused again. Could water actually break?
Dad brought Mom to the hospital and didn't come back until the day after. I spent the night eating butter toast and gravy by myself.
Mom and Dad came back with my baby sibling. She was a girl! I could finally call myself a big brother, and I could protect her. My baby sister's name was 'Sarah'. She had the cutest nose I've ever seen, but she kind of looked like a monkey.
Mom said she was beautiful and that she loved her a lot. I thought it was kind of funny though, because Sarah was funny looking. Dad saw me laughing and told me, "A baby's face is a face that only a mother can love." I still didn't get it. Adults and their stupid traditions!
I grew up, and so did Sarah. Mom and Dad spend lots of time with her, but it's ok. I want my baby sister to be happy -- that's what big brothers want for their baby sisters, right?
I met a boy named Edd, yesterday. He moved in a few days ago and he talks funny -- I can't understand a single word he says. I also met a boy named Eddy too. He keeps calling Edd, 'Double D' It's because his name is spelled with two D's!
Eddy hates Sarah a whole lot. Sarah hates him a lot too, but she doesn't seem to hate Double D as much as she hates Eddy. To be honest, I don't think I like my life with Sarah around. My Mom and Dad don't pay attention to me anymore. It gets frustrating when I try to get their attention and I end up failing. The only way for them to notice me is if I act stupid and get myself into trouble -- I guess I'm ok with that for now.
Being a big brother wasn't as good as I thought it would be.
The gravy stayed in my bathtub -- untouched for nearly seven years now. I guess Mom stopped having her cravings. Double D told me that I should drain the gravy out of my bath tub. I told him that I made a promise -- never to empty the gravy from the tub.
Eventually, I emptied it. I was depressed for a long time when all the memories I had left of those days were gone. Mom and Dad were too busy taking care of Sarah, and me? Did I do something wrong to make them neglect me?
"What's the matter, Ed? You don't have a cheerful disposition today," Double D put a hand on my shoulder. I was sitting at the curb, just outside of my house. "You look rather upset, Ed."
I frowned and shook my head. "I have problems, Double D!" I bawled. "Did I do something to make Mother and Father mad at me?!" I sobbed, burying my large forehead into his bony shoulder.
Double D cleared his throat and patted my head. "There, there, Ed. We all go through problems. Everyone has them." he told me. "Even Kevin and Rolf and Nazz?" I squeaked. Double D nodded briefly.
"Even though we're all different, Ed. Everyone goes through problems. At some point, we were all there."
Those were the first words from Double D that I could truly understand.