Daily Drama by Alex Moisi
"Behave, you monster!"
Seconds ago, my son declared war on a box of Corn Flakes and began throwing its contents around our shopping cart in a cheerful manner. I grab the box and try to replace it on the shelf without causing a scene. A prompt scream followed by a river of tears ruin my attempts.
Two concerned mothers nearby turn towards me, their angelic kids in tow. I try to make a quick escape and accidentally slam into a shelf. As boxes of cereal rain around us my son grins ear to ear.
I eventually bribe him with candy so he'll shut up and I can finish shopping. Later, as I stop and clean his puke from the backseat of the mini-van, I remember when grocery shopping used to take only an hour. Even later, in the driveway, I realize the steaks we were planning to have for dinner are ripped apart and lying under my seat; a three-hour trip for nothing.
"Marla, watch Danny," I cry to my wife, entering the house "I've got to go back and get another steak."
All I hear in response is a high-pitched scream from Susan, our four-year-old daughter. She runs toward me and stabs my knee with a plastic fork. The joy in her eyes is contagious, and Danny giggles clapping his hands. My wife, sweaty and tired, enters the room as I curse angrily.
"Honey, not in front of the kids," she sighs.
"I think they do it on purpose," I mutter.
"You didn't get the steaks?" she asks while Danny wobbles past us towards the backyard. "What are we having for dinner? I already started the grill."
"Well, Danny ruined them. I'll just run and—"
My wife cuts me off. "No, honey, I'll go."
"But, Marla, it's not my fault," I try to protest.
"Honey, your little miss decided to shit in the bathtub today. I've been cleaning four-year-old crap all morning while you were out. I think I deserve some fresh air." Her tone is final, and I nod, mumbling.
As the mini-van backs out the driveway, I hear Danny screaming from somewhere outside. I hope he burned himself on the grill; maybe he'll learn a lesson. Susan, laughing like a little imp, sprints towards the backyard. More screams and the sound of something breaking follow.
Marla waves to me from the car with a sadistic grin on her face. I bet she'll take her time shopping. With a small puff of exhaust gas, she's gone and all I can see are rows of white, one-story houses, just like ours. I almost expect another prematurely balding dad to signal desperately towards me from the window across the street. But across the street lives a happy, newly-married couple. We live so close, yet I can only dream about their peaceful oasis of sanity. Another scream jolts me back to reality, and I head towards the backyard deck.
I notice their little trap too late. Danny's marbles are spread all over the floor and Susan has spilled a bottle of water on the smooth cement. As I loose balance and slip towards the hot grill I hear them giggle, and darkness soon follows.
* * *
"Darling, I'm back. I found a great deal on . . . "
I walk in to greet Marla and she stares at me, surprised.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
"Yes. Oh, don't worry about this," I say shaking my burnt hand. "I made dinner. It was a mess; the kids gave me a heck of a time," I finish, laughing.
As I lead Marla to the kitchen I sneak a kiss on her cheek and she smiles, confused. A plate full of meat fills the room with a delicious smell.
"Do you want a piece? It's well done, just how you like it," I say, grabbing two dinner plates. "You should try some. After a good dinner you just feel like there's not a trouble in the world."
"Honey, where are the kids?" my wife asks, hesitantly accepting a plate.
"Well, the funny thing is they really helped me with this. They pushed me, in more than one way," I joke, nibbling on a crunchy piece of ear. "Sit down and have some. It tastes better than you'd think."
