Chapter Two
A river of hot fudge cascaded through the mountain of vanilla ice cream, the decadent chocolate as determined as lava oozing from an angry volcano. Playful nuts mingled with the fudge and ice cream.
That bad scrape on his knee hurt something awful when Daddy cleaned it and he had to fight back the tears from the antiseptic's sting, but Gary had been a very brave little boy through it all. Daddy said that he was so proud of him for not crying through his ordeal. As a reward, Daddy made him a hot fudge sundae. This treat was ten times better than the tiny lollipop the doctor always gave him after he received one of those painful shots.
The very large bowl with its extremely generous serving of ice cream, hot fudge, and nuts almost seemed too much for one little boy to conquer.
Almost.
"Remember kiddo, Mommy's not supposed to know about this. She'll be mad at Daddy for spoiling your supper." Bernie reminded his son.
Gary nodded. Mommy always made such a big deal about him eating "junk" before dinner. She'd say that he wouldn't want to eat the meal. He wasn't even allowed to have one cookie as a snack. Mommy would tell him that if he needed something to tide him over before dinner, there was a bowl of fruit on the kitchen table or some celery or carrot sticks in the refrigerator. Gary would frown at the suggestion. What eight-year-old boy would jump at the chance for fruit or vegetables as a snack when there were cookies or ice cream readily available? But Daddy was different. Daddy would allow him to have the good snacks before dinner.
Gary crammed spoonful after spoonful of the sundae into his mouth while Bernie watched in amusement. His son's small stature had little affect on his appetite.
Suddenly, the front door opened. "Bernie! Bernie, could you help me with these
groceries?"
"Ah.in a minute, Lo. I'll be right there." Bernie replied. He hoped that his voice didn't betray him with the panic he felt over his wife's arrival. "Sorry, Gar." Quickly, the elder Hobson snatched up the little boy's bowl with all the swiftness of an eagle. Gary
watched as the remnants of the sundae met an untimely demise at the eager jaws of the garbage disposal. The last bit of incriminating evidence, the dirty bowl, was discarded in the back of the kitchen cabinet. Bernie made a mental note that he'd wash it when Lois
wasn't around.
"Bernie!" Lois called out again, impatiently.
"I'm coming." Bernie answered. "Remember kiddo, don't tell Mommy." Bernie reminded his son as he went to out to help Lois. Gary remained in the kitchen.
"I decided to pick up a few things on my way home from the cleaners. I ran into Betty at the market. Did you know that Renee made it as a finalist in a statewide mathematics competition? She even beat some older students. Betty is so proud."
A moment later, Gary came into the room. Lois gasped in shock when she saw her son's face. Turning to her husband, she exclaimed, "Bernie Hobson! What have you done?!"
Chapter Three
It was merely circumstantial, but the evidence offered powerful indicia of guilt. Traces of fudge and vanilla ice cream decorated the little boy's face.
"Bernie Hobson! What have you done?" Lois gasped.
There was one important detail that the elder Hobson had forgotten and now that detail had betrayed him to his wife.
Bernie walked towards his son. He placed both of his hands on Gary's shoulders. "Now Lo, don't get upset. It was just a little snack."
"You've spoiled his dinner." She argued.
The wheels in Bernie's head began turning. He knew that damage control was definitely needed. "Come on, Lo, Gary was such a good boy today. He cleaned his room without having to be told. I just felt that he deserved a little reward. Besides, he promised to eat
everything off of his plate come dinnertime. Didn't you, son?"
Gary nodded.
Lois eyes darted from her husband to her son. She wasn't stupid. She knew that the two of them had hatched this "scheme" together. Still, she could never stay angry with either one of them for very long. However, she had a few tricks of her own.
Her features relaxed. "Well, if Gary cleaned his room and he promised to eat all of his dinner," she began, "I suppose that a small treat this time shouldn't hurt."
Both guys smiled victoriously.
A brief silence.
"What are we having anyway?" Bernie inquired.
"Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and lima beans." Lois confirmed. She awaited the reaction to her announcement of the choice of vegetables. She had planned on serving fried chicken and mashed potatoes before she left today to run errands. The lima beans were a last minute substitute to the menu. Perhaps it was cruel, but she wanted to teach her guys a lesson.
It didn't take long before the desired reaction was painted over Bernie and Gary's faces- a pained expression. Neither of them liked lima beans.
Gary looked at his father, those mud green filled with panic. He hated lima beans. Bernie returned Gary's look, a father's eyes conveying a silent apology to his son.
"I'm so glad that Gary promised to eat all of his dinner. Vegetables will make him grow big and strong. And since Gary already had his dessert, I'm sure that he won't be needing anymore later." She added. "Now let's go upstairs and get you cleaned up," she said to
Gary.
Chapter Four
Eating a plate full of lima beans was far more painful for Gary than badly scraping his knee sliding into home plate. It seemed as if those disgusting vegetables multiplied even after he'd swallowed millions of them (well, to him, it felt like millions!), drowning
them with desperate gulps of water. Further, any hope of camouflaging the lima beans under the pleasant mirage of fried chicken and mashed potatoes proved equally futile. Maybe he was imagining it, but had the army of lima beans overrun the "weaker" arsenal of meat and potatoes? It just appeared to be more of those vegetables than the
foods that the little boy actually liked.
And the worst part of this whole thing was that Daddy couldn't help him, either. Usually, when Mommy served lima beans, Daddy showed him the trick of appearing as if he were eating the vegetables. He'd hold them in his mouth and when Mommy went into the kitchen for rolls or something, he'd pretend as if he were wiping his mouth, dislodge
the vegetables into his napkin, and then hide the napkin in his pants' pocket to be discarded in the bathroom later.
But Mommy wasn't leaving the dinner table. She was watching him, watching to make sure that he cleaned off his plate just as he had promised earlier. She was even watching Daddy. The Hobson men were clearly fighting a losing battle.
It seemed as if it had taken an eternity, but finally, dinner was over. Gary hoped that Mommy had forgotten about her earlier edict of no dessert. However, there was no such luck. Instead, she insisted that he go upstairs and try on his baseball uniform. He couldn't
really understand why; it wasn't as if Mommy hadn't seen him in that uniform before. It was the same uniform, only cleaner. Still, the little boy nodded obediently before going upstairs to his room. A few minutes later, Gary came downstairs and proceeded to the living room. Daddy was sitting on the couch; Mommy was seated next to him. Without saying another word, Mommy jumped up from her position so quickly that one would have thought that someone had placed a firecracker underneath her. She disappeared upstairs and when she returned seconds later, Gary cringed upon seeing what she held
proudly in her hand.
A camera.
Little mud green eyes darted in the direction of his father, but Bernie sported an amused grin. Gary could tell that Daddy wasn't going to help him.
"Come on, Gary. Stand over there. And a big smile for Mommy."
Why did she have to do this? Why did Mommy have to make such a big deal over a silly little thing like him wearing his baseball uniform?"
It was just like when he played a teapot last year. He hadn't even volunteered for a part in that school play about the Boston Tea Party. He just raised his hand to go to the bathroom, but Mrs. Douglas had misunderstood him. Before he knew it, he was on stage,
wearing a teapot costume, with all those parents staring at him. And there was Mommy with the camera taking his picture!
Just like now.
Gary stood in the middle of the room, as lifeless as a statute, his eyes focused on the floor.
"Gary, honey, don't look at your feet. Look at Mommy. And give me a big smile." She repeated.
"Yeah, kiddo. Give your Mommy a big smile." Bernie chimed.
Why was Daddy acting like he was enjoying all of this?
Reluctantly, Gary obliged. Six snaps later, the photography torture session was over.
"Wait until Betty sees these pictures. My baby is the cutest on the whole team." Lois gushed.
Gary flinched. Mommy was going to show those pictures to Mrs. Callahan and knowing Mommy, she wouldn't stop there. She'd probably show them all over the neighborhood!
At this moment, a plate full of lima beans didn't seem so bad after all.
A river of hot fudge cascaded through the mountain of vanilla ice cream, the decadent chocolate as determined as lava oozing from an angry volcano. Playful nuts mingled with the fudge and ice cream.
That bad scrape on his knee hurt something awful when Daddy cleaned it and he had to fight back the tears from the antiseptic's sting, but Gary had been a very brave little boy through it all. Daddy said that he was so proud of him for not crying through his ordeal. As a reward, Daddy made him a hot fudge sundae. This treat was ten times better than the tiny lollipop the doctor always gave him after he received one of those painful shots.
The very large bowl with its extremely generous serving of ice cream, hot fudge, and nuts almost seemed too much for one little boy to conquer.
Almost.
"Remember kiddo, Mommy's not supposed to know about this. She'll be mad at Daddy for spoiling your supper." Bernie reminded his son.
Gary nodded. Mommy always made such a big deal about him eating "junk" before dinner. She'd say that he wouldn't want to eat the meal. He wasn't even allowed to have one cookie as a snack. Mommy would tell him that if he needed something to tide him over before dinner, there was a bowl of fruit on the kitchen table or some celery or carrot sticks in the refrigerator. Gary would frown at the suggestion. What eight-year-old boy would jump at the chance for fruit or vegetables as a snack when there were cookies or ice cream readily available? But Daddy was different. Daddy would allow him to have the good snacks before dinner.
Gary crammed spoonful after spoonful of the sundae into his mouth while Bernie watched in amusement. His son's small stature had little affect on his appetite.
Suddenly, the front door opened. "Bernie! Bernie, could you help me with these
groceries?"
"Ah.in a minute, Lo. I'll be right there." Bernie replied. He hoped that his voice didn't betray him with the panic he felt over his wife's arrival. "Sorry, Gar." Quickly, the elder Hobson snatched up the little boy's bowl with all the swiftness of an eagle. Gary
watched as the remnants of the sundae met an untimely demise at the eager jaws of the garbage disposal. The last bit of incriminating evidence, the dirty bowl, was discarded in the back of the kitchen cabinet. Bernie made a mental note that he'd wash it when Lois
wasn't around.
"Bernie!" Lois called out again, impatiently.
"I'm coming." Bernie answered. "Remember kiddo, don't tell Mommy." Bernie reminded his son as he went to out to help Lois. Gary remained in the kitchen.
"I decided to pick up a few things on my way home from the cleaners. I ran into Betty at the market. Did you know that Renee made it as a finalist in a statewide mathematics competition? She even beat some older students. Betty is so proud."
A moment later, Gary came into the room. Lois gasped in shock when she saw her son's face. Turning to her husband, she exclaimed, "Bernie Hobson! What have you done?!"
Chapter Three
It was merely circumstantial, but the evidence offered powerful indicia of guilt. Traces of fudge and vanilla ice cream decorated the little boy's face.
"Bernie Hobson! What have you done?" Lois gasped.
There was one important detail that the elder Hobson had forgotten and now that detail had betrayed him to his wife.
Bernie walked towards his son. He placed both of his hands on Gary's shoulders. "Now Lo, don't get upset. It was just a little snack."
"You've spoiled his dinner." She argued.
The wheels in Bernie's head began turning. He knew that damage control was definitely needed. "Come on, Lo, Gary was such a good boy today. He cleaned his room without having to be told. I just felt that he deserved a little reward. Besides, he promised to eat
everything off of his plate come dinnertime. Didn't you, son?"
Gary nodded.
Lois eyes darted from her husband to her son. She wasn't stupid. She knew that the two of them had hatched this "scheme" together. Still, she could never stay angry with either one of them for very long. However, she had a few tricks of her own.
Her features relaxed. "Well, if Gary cleaned his room and he promised to eat all of his dinner," she began, "I suppose that a small treat this time shouldn't hurt."
Both guys smiled victoriously.
A brief silence.
"What are we having anyway?" Bernie inquired.
"Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and lima beans." Lois confirmed. She awaited the reaction to her announcement of the choice of vegetables. She had planned on serving fried chicken and mashed potatoes before she left today to run errands. The lima beans were a last minute substitute to the menu. Perhaps it was cruel, but she wanted to teach her guys a lesson.
It didn't take long before the desired reaction was painted over Bernie and Gary's faces- a pained expression. Neither of them liked lima beans.
Gary looked at his father, those mud green filled with panic. He hated lima beans. Bernie returned Gary's look, a father's eyes conveying a silent apology to his son.
"I'm so glad that Gary promised to eat all of his dinner. Vegetables will make him grow big and strong. And since Gary already had his dessert, I'm sure that he won't be needing anymore later." She added. "Now let's go upstairs and get you cleaned up," she said to
Gary.
Chapter Four
Eating a plate full of lima beans was far more painful for Gary than badly scraping his knee sliding into home plate. It seemed as if those disgusting vegetables multiplied even after he'd swallowed millions of them (well, to him, it felt like millions!), drowning
them with desperate gulps of water. Further, any hope of camouflaging the lima beans under the pleasant mirage of fried chicken and mashed potatoes proved equally futile. Maybe he was imagining it, but had the army of lima beans overrun the "weaker" arsenal of meat and potatoes? It just appeared to be more of those vegetables than the
foods that the little boy actually liked.
And the worst part of this whole thing was that Daddy couldn't help him, either. Usually, when Mommy served lima beans, Daddy showed him the trick of appearing as if he were eating the vegetables. He'd hold them in his mouth and when Mommy went into the kitchen for rolls or something, he'd pretend as if he were wiping his mouth, dislodge
the vegetables into his napkin, and then hide the napkin in his pants' pocket to be discarded in the bathroom later.
But Mommy wasn't leaving the dinner table. She was watching him, watching to make sure that he cleaned off his plate just as he had promised earlier. She was even watching Daddy. The Hobson men were clearly fighting a losing battle.
It seemed as if it had taken an eternity, but finally, dinner was over. Gary hoped that Mommy had forgotten about her earlier edict of no dessert. However, there was no such luck. Instead, she insisted that he go upstairs and try on his baseball uniform. He couldn't
really understand why; it wasn't as if Mommy hadn't seen him in that uniform before. It was the same uniform, only cleaner. Still, the little boy nodded obediently before going upstairs to his room. A few minutes later, Gary came downstairs and proceeded to the living room. Daddy was sitting on the couch; Mommy was seated next to him. Without saying another word, Mommy jumped up from her position so quickly that one would have thought that someone had placed a firecracker underneath her. She disappeared upstairs and when she returned seconds later, Gary cringed upon seeing what she held
proudly in her hand.
A camera.
Little mud green eyes darted in the direction of his father, but Bernie sported an amused grin. Gary could tell that Daddy wasn't going to help him.
"Come on, Gary. Stand over there. And a big smile for Mommy."
Why did she have to do this? Why did Mommy have to make such a big deal over a silly little thing like him wearing his baseball uniform?"
It was just like when he played a teapot last year. He hadn't even volunteered for a part in that school play about the Boston Tea Party. He just raised his hand to go to the bathroom, but Mrs. Douglas had misunderstood him. Before he knew it, he was on stage,
wearing a teapot costume, with all those parents staring at him. And there was Mommy with the camera taking his picture!
Just like now.
Gary stood in the middle of the room, as lifeless as a statute, his eyes focused on the floor.
"Gary, honey, don't look at your feet. Look at Mommy. And give me a big smile." She repeated.
"Yeah, kiddo. Give your Mommy a big smile." Bernie chimed.
Why was Daddy acting like he was enjoying all of this?
Reluctantly, Gary obliged. Six snaps later, the photography torture session was over.
"Wait until Betty sees these pictures. My baby is the cutest on the whole team." Lois gushed.
Gary flinched. Mommy was going to show those pictures to Mrs. Callahan and knowing Mommy, she wouldn't stop there. She'd probably show them all over the neighborhood!
At this moment, a plate full of lima beans didn't seem so bad after all.
