Nancy Target... Hare Today...
"Mommy," Nancy said, her left ear pulled down to her chin, in the long stroking habit she'd picked somewhere. Around other species, she could get a little self conscious about her ears. They either went straight up or straight down. She couldn't quite accept that her ears couldn't be 'styled.' "I'm bored."
Mary looked up from her coin counting and told her 8 year old daughter one moment. But she smiled with understanding; most days she herself was bored at United Species Bank. She thanked her customer and handed him the proofed deposit slip. No one else was in line so she was able to turn to her daughter, who had now pulled down both ears and was doing a very sincere pout. "Why don't you play I Spy with the other kids?"
"Jilly Toddson is nuttier than a fruit cake," her daughter said after a dramatic intake of breathe.
"And how would you know? You've never eaten fruitcake in your life."
Nancy took another deep breathe and then stopped when she realized she didn't have an answer for her mother. She literally could not exhale until she thought of something appropriate to say. Mary was tempted to count out Mississippi's as she watched her daughter's internal conflict make her eyes dance. Her goal was to teach her daughter to think before she spoke, but she also found these moments of mild confusion somewhat amusing. Did that make her a bad mother?
Ask her again in twenty years.
Finally, Nancy said, "Ah-huh." Exhale.
"Really? When?"
"Ummmmm...? Aunt Nancy gave me some."
"That was rum cake. It had raisins in it. No nuts."
"Oh..." Nancy let go of her ears and they fell behind her head, hiding under her pink curly headhair. She hand reached up to the counter and leaned at an angle, too much pent up energy to stand too still. "Jilly's short a few raisins in her rum cake." She said with quiet aplomb. Two of the other tellers, – thankfully, neither was Giles, father of the little kit who either had too many nuts or not even raisins, depending on whom you asked – tittered at the little rabbit's phrasing and the truth of it. Jilly was what they called Special Needs.
As far as she could tell, those Needs were just extra patience. Which sounds simple enough, but single parents. like herself, and like Giles, sometimes found those in short supply.
Children, too, could find themselves short of it.
"I spied Vixen and Jilly said I was cheating because there was no Vixen in the room. But she's a Vixen!"
"No honey," she said leaning down and stroking her daughter's check. "Jilly's a Kit. Just like you. She has to be a older woman before you could call her a Vixen. And, some people don't think that's a nice word any more."
"How come?"
"It's old fashioned. Sometimes it reminds them of bad things that used to happen."
"How come?"
"We'll talk about it later. First, you need to apologize to Jilly."
Super dramatic intake of air and then a shocked, "Why!?"
"Well, there's that little thing about you being wrong and she being right." Instant pouty face again. If she was half this dramatic as a child, she really owed her parents an apology. "Oh, now look at who's nuttier than a fruitcake."
Her daughter took another intake of breath, but her eyes went round and large... so large that Mary would later tell the police that she could see the sparkles reflected in them. She'd never seen them so large in her life...
But they'd be even larger before the end of the day.
-to be continued.