Two: Cavities and Flour

What could I have done to make this situation better? Well, I could have left Robbie alone to wipe the potatoes off of his face. Instead, with eyes on me, I take and smash a cupcake right on his forehead. He grunts. He stomps and yells for a napkin.

"Why one earth would you do that to me?" Robbie storms off to the trash and throws the napkins away. His face is now clean, but dirty with anger. "More importantly, you destroyed a perfectly good cupcake."

I reply, "I thought you might need the extra sugar injected through your pores. By the way, do you have any cavities?"

He cocks an eyebrow and shoots back, "Is that your business?"

"Well," I say. "I was wondering because you are sweet enough to have a whole mouthful of them."

He falls short of words. "Pinky, I . . . Thank you? I'm not sure if that is a compliment."

I am supposed to run away laughing, but Robbie's gaze has me glued to the ground.

The kids giggle under their breath.

I am on a roll, so I might as well crank out a few more of these annoyances. I step closer to Robbie and poke him in the chest. "You should take up dance classes. When Sportacus comes back from Hawaii, you could have a dance-off. Winner stays in Lazytown. I know he can't dance very well."

Robbie shrugs his shoulders. "I'm not sure that is a good idea. The town would root for him regardless." He adds, "Besides, I don't have time for that. It's getting late, I'm going to go home. I have to say, this was a strange conversation. To answer you, I don't have any cavities. I take very good care of my teeth."

"That's great, Robbie." I don't know what else to say except, "You're such a cutie-patootie."

His mouth drops open. He shakes his head and stammers, "Th-thanks, I guess."

He walks off, not even saying goodbye.

Trixie comes up to me. She waits for Robbie to disappear and belts out laughter. "Good stuff, Steph. He is clueless. Now you just have to move onto the better ones like tackling him and whatever. I have a few more in mind to add, but I'll wait and see how things play out. Ah, that cracked me up."

I receive praise from the others as the night comes to an end. I help Uncle Milford clean up and we head back home. After a cup of hot cocoa, I head to bed. I know tomorrow morning I will have to run to the supermarket and buy different types of flour. I hope at the end of all this, Robbie doesn't hate me entirely. I'm doing this for amusement as well, but Robbie is usually pretty nice to me. He stopped causing trouble a few years ago when he realized how old we were all getting. No longer kids, we ruined his pranks by calling him out on them. Even Sportacus began telling Robbie to grow up. Sure, it wasn't kind of him to say that. However, Robbie merely brushed his shoulders off and kept doing what he always did. I like that about him; he never strays from the path of life he chose. No one really knows Robbie's past, but I'm positive something made him hate strong and athletic men like Sportacus. I don't blame him in a way. I think he might be a little jealous of Sportacus since he always has a spotlight on him. It's not a big deal to me, though. Sportacus may be the rock and foundation of this town, but Robbie is the roof of the house keeping all the townspeople dry and safe. Robbie watches out for us, even if he won't admit it.

The next morning I wake to a silent house. It is a little past six and Uncle Milford is nowhere to be found. I see a note on the kitchen counter explaining that he has gone to a business class in the next city over and will be back sometime late afternoon. I take this opportunity to shower, make some eggs and toast for breakfast, and clean the house. It is nearly nine by the time I am done. Time to go to the grocery store.

I can't find many flours, just wheat, almond, soy, and white. I place them in a wooden box and laugh at how ridiculous this looks. I suppose I'm expected to hand-deliver these to his house. I don't know how the kids will keep tabs on some of these. I'm hoping they won't watch me howl at his billboard or tackle him. They'll just have to trust me on those.

I make my way out of the store and walk towards the center of town again. It won't take long to get to Robbie's place, but these flours are somewhat heavier than what I can normally carry. I reach my house and pass by the baseball field. The kids are not outside yet. I don't plan on waking any of them up, either.

The sun is hot on my face and I can feel sweat starting to form. I reach Robbie's house and stare up at the billboard. Maybe it's best if I just leave these here and go.

"What are you doing here?" I hear Robbie's voice bounce off of the trees. He emerges from behind the wood line and approaches me with a quizzical look.

I ask, "What are you doing outside?"

"I lost something – none of your business. What is that?" He pokes a package of flour.

"I got your flours," I explain. "Different flours. You need to water them and take care of them. They need direct sunlight."

I expect him to look at me like I'm insane. Instead, he starts rambling, "Those are not the flours you think they are. These are for baking, Pinky. How thick are you? And why would you bring me a gift? What, is it Betty Crocker Day or something?"

"No, I just thought you might like them."

He runs his hand along his hairline and huffs, "I don't want any gifts, especially from you. Get out of here. Go play with your little pals and talk about your miserable life."

"Wow," I drop the box to the ground. The loud thud startles both of us. "You're so rude, Robbie. Seriously. Have a great day, jerk."

I turn and leave, wondering why I signed up for this once again.