(4) Year 3

Once a week, Gilbert and Kevin would go shopping. Three-year old Kevin carried his sword everywhere and was not very helpful with the shopping. The best Gilbert could hope for was that he would behave himself during the outing, but needless to say, the dark-haired man suffered regular embarrassment from the antics of his charge.

At the market, Gilbert would quickly purchase the food staples, cigarettes and other items they'd need to last the week. He knew exactly where everything was and how long he had to buy everything before Kevin would shift into naughty mode. During past trips, the boy had been chastised by the flour vendor for puncturing a flour sack with his sword, and the candy seller for trying to steal a lollipop. "I thought it was mine," Kevin had protested, sulking when the lolli was whisked out of his hands.

One day, the line at the meat vendor was longer than usual and Gilbert resorted to one of his more desperate tactics to try to get the boy to behave – imitating a cat.

"Nyaa!" Gilbert mewed, scaring himself with how realistic his own cat sounds were.

This odd behavior from his foster father normally caused a sadistic smile to creep onto the boy's face, as he enjoyed not only seeing the man act goofy, but also the look of fright in Gilbert's eyes.

But today, Kevin just wasn't buying it. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and sulked.

"That certainly is a gruff and grumpy boy, you've got there, Sir," muttered the lady standing behind them in line.

"Yeah, he's a real ray of sunshine," Gilbert muttered sarcastically.

"Would you like a candy, Little One?" The lady reached in to her pocket and held out an orange wrapped candy.

Kevin's eyes lit up and he snatched the candy.

"What do you say to the nice lady, Kevin?"

"Grrr…" Kevin put the end of the candy wrapper in his mouth and pulled, but was struggling to get it open.

Gilbert blushed. The boy was humiliating him yet again with his rude behavior.

"If I may be so bold," the lady whispered, placing a hand on Gilbert's arm to get his attention. "I would like to suggest that you model the behavior you'd like to see in the boy. If you want him to say 'thank you' he has to hear you saying it. And if you want him to smile more, you need to show him your own cheerful face, Sir."

Gilbert nodded to be polite, and tried to force a smile. Easier said than done, he thought. He watched Kevin get increasingly frustrated with his attempts at opening the wrapped candy.

"Do you want me to open that for you?" Gilbert asked.

"I do it myself!" Kevin said, pouting.

Gilbert shook his head in resignation.

)(

Kevin's insistence on "doing everything myself" was becoming quite of a problem. Gilbert had heard from various moms he chatted with that this sort of behavior was typical for a child of his age. But having the benefit of foresight, Gilbert suspected this behavior wasn't going to be going away anytime soon. Oddly enough, some of the things Kevin tried to 'do himself' were under the guise of trying to 'be helpful'. The boy especially wanted to 'help' his foster father in the kitchen.

So one typical day, Gilbert agreed that Kevin could wash the dishes after their meal. The boy stood on a step stool with a bar of soap and a basin of water and set to work. From past experience with Kevin's 'help,' Gilbert knew he'd best just sit in the other room or he'd blow his cool trying to micromanage the boy. He went into the living room and sat down with the newspaper.

Several minutes passed, then the sound of water splashing and dishes being rubbed slowly dissolved into silence. Long silence. This couldn't be good. Gilbert stood up and went into the kitchen. Kevin had a slasher smile on his face, a knife in his hand and had cut the soap into little pieces.

"Kevin! That soap was supposed to last us all week!"

He snatched the knife from the boy's hand.

"How did you get this?" I hid all the knives up high so you couldn't reach them.

"It's a secret!" Kevin smirked.

"I can't leave you alone to do things by yourself unless I can trust you!"

"You don't need to trust me," Kevin stated flatly.

Gilbert threw up his hands, feeling unable to fight the onward march of time toward the inevitable.

to be continued