Disclaimer
: If I owned them, I'd keep Bobby for myselfRating
: this film not yet ratedSummary
: Bobby and Lindsay are well into their married lifeand then comes The Crisis.Author's Note
: Thanks to Lysa for providing the elements for this one! Also, the views expressed in the story are not necessarily the views of the writer. (I happen to think the Thing is pretty cool.)I can't believe what I am seeing. Actually, I am standing in shock, praying that I'm not seeing what I'm seeing. Bobby is waiting expectantly for me to voice my approval of thisthis thing. It's a hideous creature of a car-a yellow Volkswagon convertible that thankfully there are very few of on the road. It kind of looks like a Jeep but without the charm.
If I believed in reincarnation, I would swear that I did something horrible in a previous life.
"I can't wait to hear this one and where is that Lexus we got you for your birthday last month???" I demand. He looks crestfallen.
"Lindsay, sweetheart, I know it's a little different, but I have always wanted one of these! And besides, this one is just a loaner!"
"Glad to hear it! I was afraid you were foolish enough to pay money for this monstrosity of aof a what is this thing?"
"It's a Thing," he replies. Oh. How clarifying. Thank you, Bobby.
"I beg your pardon?" I seek a better answer and he knows it.
"A Thing!" he replies stubbornly. "A Volkswagon Thing."
My husband is off his rocker.
Anyone who knows him and saw this thingthat is, this Thing, would agree. Bobby Donnell, Attorney at Law, does not belong in a Thing.
"I would love to wait around for an explanation for this, but I have to go pick up your son from Eric's house, so why don't you figure out something for dinner." It's not a request. Angrily, I stalk to my Camry and leave him still standing next to the Thing.
A few blocks from our building the city gives way to a quiet and pretty little neighborhood where Robbie spends his afternoons. One thing I hate about being a working mommy is that I don't get nearly enough time with my son. I ring the doorbell at the house and Jenny answers. She gives a tired smile when she sees me.
"Was he that bad?" I ask. This is all I need. Delinquent husband, delinquent son. She shakes her head.
"No, not at all. Robbie is very well-behaved. It's some of the others I can't handle. But he does have an interesting story to tell you." I think that running her after-school day care for five Kindergarten children has aged poor Jenny by about thirty years. Robbie appears in the hallway, a scowl on his face.
"What's the matter, kiddo?" I ask him. The scowl changes to a pout.
"Erin tooked my lunch box." Robbie adores the G.I. Joe lunch box that Stephen Donnell gave his grandson when he began school. It had been Bobby's so, needless to say, the thing was pretty beaten up.
"And what did you do about this?" I question him.
"Tooked hers home," he says smugly, presenting a fuschia box with a Beauty and the Beast design on it. Fabulous. I shoulder his little backpack and thank Jenny. She doesn't have time to answer because she is trying to stop a fight between the two little girls who are playing tug-of-war with a Barbie doll.
As I was afraid, the moment we pull up into our parking spot, Robbie points a finger at the Thing. "Lookit, Mommy! Cool car!" Argh. Definitely his father's son.
We make it to the apartment where -surprise surprise- Bobby has made chili dogs. It's all he knows how to make and he refuses to learn how to make anything else. Oh well. It's good comfort food and I need that about now.
"Daddy, did you see that cool yellow car out there?" Robbie chatters excitedly. Bobby glances at me. I give him a warning look that clearly says "tell him it's yours and suffer the consequences." He understands.
"I sure did, Sport! But look at what Aunt Helen sent for you today!" he pulls out a paperback book. Helen decided that she was going to present Robbie with the Harry Potter collection, one book at a time. He studies the cover of Harry Potter and The Chamber of Secrets. He can't read yet but he loves being read to.
"Is it Harry Potter?"
"Yup! We'll read the first chapter tonight! Why don't you go put that in your room and wash up for dinner?" Robbie scampers off.
"Look, Linds- I'm sorry about the car," he begins, but I stop him. For the first time, I notice the music that's playing from the stereo in the living room. I turn to him suspiciously.
"Since when do you listen to the Beastie Boys?"
"It's Lucy's. She told me I'd like it." I'm going to have to have words with that girl.
"What is it with you lately? First the car, and now the music? You're not a kid anymore, Bobby! But you're acting like one!" I stop. Uh-oh.
I won't swear on it, but I think my husband is displaying symptoms of a midlife crisis.
"I don't know, Linds. I'm starting to feel a little bored with my life. I'm bored with driving cars like everyone else. I'm bored with radio stations whose newest song is twenty years old. I'm even kind of bored with work. There, I said it."
That final sentence. The same thing he said to me when he admitted he hated weddings. Silence ensues. "Are you bored with me, too?" I ask quietly, afraid to look at him. I've heard stories of married men hitting midlife and chasing after younger women. I don't think Bobby wouldbut I never thought my father would, either.
In reply, Bobby closes the space between us. He puts his hand under my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. Our eyes remain locked for a moment. I can read his easily. No, he isn't bored with me. "How could you even think that?" he whispers harshly before our lips meet.
"You better take that car back tomorrow," I inform him between kisses.
"Yes ma'am," he whispers back.
"Mommy!" Robbie bursts into the room. Bobby and I come up for air and I turn to our son. "I found some animal crackers in Erin's lunch box!" he displays them proudly. "Can I have them?"
I sigh. "Eat your chili dog first."
THE END
Note
: (again) the elements from Lysa were as follows: A Beastie Boys CD, a Harry Potter paperback, a Beauty And The Beast Lunchbox, animal crackers, and a yellow Volkswagon.