And The Silver Spoon
You are cooking your kid breakfast for dinner. You hear him sleepily stumble out of the spare room and into the kitchen. You turn and smile as he sleepily rubs his eyes, one of your large t-shirts draped around his small frame.
You send him a big smile and wave with your spatula.
Are you hungry? you ask. You grin as he lights up and nods feverishly, making himself at home as he pulls out a chair for himself.
Huh, you thought. Youd always had two dining table seats, but no one to share them with.
You prepare him a plate of bacon, pancakes, and cheesy scrambled eggs. You give him a glass of OJ. He quietly, hungrily shovels the food into his mouth.
You watch him at first, picking at your own plate. You want to fill the silence, but you dont know how.
Suddenly, he asks if youll sleep with him again tonight. You are quick to say yes. Instinctually.
He calls you Mister Simmons and your heart twinges with regret. You know you should tell him to call you dad, but that feels too soon.
That'll do for now half pint, you joke. He laughs. Your chest swells with pride.