After a few hours of fussing, double and triple checking supplies, and about one hundred warnings later… Pitan bid Yamless and Small Fry farewell. He watched as his beloved wife nearly skipped down the cobblestone path in front of their house, closing the door behind him. As they rounded the corner, Yamless turned to see Pitan one last time before she fell out of his vision. Small Fry slammed right into her.
“Hey! Whatcha doing?” Small Fry screeched, attempting to balance her teetering margarita. “Watch where you’re going! There are margaritas on board here.”
Yamless grinned. “Me? You’re the one not paying attention!” She ushered Small Fry to the side so she could wave at Pitan. She could barely make out his shiny head, bopping up and down, trying his darndest to see out of the almost-too-tall door window. She saw his hand wave, and then heard a muted thump. She figured he must have lost his grip on the window sill and fallen to the ground. Yamless shook her head, laughing. That was so Pitan.
Pitan wondered around the house, fussing with this and that, trying not to think of the adventure Yamless had just departed on. Small Fry, he thought to himself, whhhhy her? Of all the Faeries in the community, whhhy Small Fry? She was the least qualified to go on adventure! He stomped his feet as he argued with himself. Just then the door flew open. Pitan slapped a smile on his face and went to greet his kids.
“Hey, kiddos! How was school? Actually, who cares! Mom is out of town for a little while and guess what that means?!” Pitan’s voice squeaked in excitement.
His two little half Fae, half Gnome kids grimace, saying in unison, as they often did, “Nooooo. Not the fancy cutlery, dad! Can’t we do something fun?” Gufferson tossed his bag on the floor while Zilner gnawed at the laces on his shoes, trying desperately to get them untied.
“Zilner! Don’t use your teeth for those! Remember? It’s easier to untie them with your hands.” Pitan leaned over to help the tiny Gnome-Faerie. He raised his massively hairy eyebrow so he could see what he was looking at. “Like this…”
Pitan straightened out the boy’s wings, patting down their wild hair as he did. They were his pride and joy, and he knew they hated when he fussed over them, but he couldn’t help it. “Gufferson, grab the cutlery! I’ll order pizza-bobs.” He knew that in order to spice up the use of the fancy cutlery, he would have to entice Gufferson and Zilner with something outrageously exciting. Pizza-bobs seemed fitting for the occasion.
“Yaaay!” Zilner screamed. “Make sure you get Ding Zingers on it!”
Gufferson and Pitan cringed. Ding Zingers would have all three of them fighting over the toilet for an entire week. Pitan sighed. “Well, it IS a party, so, sure. Extra ding zingers, little buddy.” He couldn’t help but crack a smile and made a mental note to get extra toilet paper from the store later that evening.
“Wait,” Zilner stopped. “Where did mom go?” His little unibrow furrowed as he spoke.
“On a trip with her friend, son. She’s going to bring fine liner markers back to the community. Quite admirable, if I do say so myself.” But before Pitan had finished his sentence, both boys were climbing the curtains in the living room, and then flinging themselves onto the couch below. They hadn’t quite figured out how to use their wings yet and Pitan knew he had to leave them to it so they could, hopefully, fly one day.
© 2017, Anisa Claire. All rights reserved.
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