Samantha Sutcliff
“Yo, Sammy, you home?” Joey’s shout bounces off the ground level stairwell, through the floor below, and arrives at my kitchen table where I sit at my computer, attempting to get some friggin’ work done.
When my child, who settled down for a nap only seconds ago, cries, I walk to the open hole in my hall, lean over, and yell down. “Whatsa madda wid you, huh? You woke my kid.”
God, you’d think mankind had not yet invented text messaging.Sighing, I pick up my fussing toddler and imagine a world where my cousin moves to Alaska.
“Hey, I waz the one doin’ youz a favor. You want dis package or not?” As always, he’s the victim and I’m the bad guy.
“Can you bring it up? I’m busy here.”
“Hold on. I’ll send Kimberly.”
A few minutes later, his five-year-old pokes her head up the stairs. “Here you go, Auntie Sam.”
After delivering the six-inch cardboard cube, she tickles my son, and he giggles. At their laughter, I put thoughts of murdering her dad on hold, at least for the time being.
“Thank you, sweetheart.” Before placing her gift on the table, I check the addressee.Occupant? For this, Joey woke up Mikey?
About to give my cousin hell for ruining my productivity, I inhale the stank of baby-poo, and make a beeline into the bedroom. “Changing time.”
“I’ll help.” Pinching her nose, my assistant skips behind me and grabs a clean diaper. While I free my son’s legs, she pulls baby wipes from the container and hands them to me. Together, we finish the toxic cleanup.
Back in the kitchen, I put Mikey in the highchair. Immediately, Catrina jumps onto his tray. Nosing him, then Kimmy, she purrs until rewarded with head scratches.
“Aren’t-cha gonna open it?” Busy playing an invisible game of hopscotch, the curious tyke glances at the mysterious box.
“I don’t have to. Looks like your dad already did.” I pick up the bubble-wrapped item and unwind the packing until I discover a pill bottle.
Enormous erection, guaranteed? What the fuck? I quickly hide the container behind my back but I’m too late.
“What’s a penis?”
I am so going to kill Joseph. Is this his idea of a joke?
“Ah, an excellent question… One you should ask your father.” Not wanting my precocious niece to practice her comprehension skills on the rest of the bottle, I stick it in the cupboard and kick the box under the table.
My cat jumps down and steps four paws in the small container and meows at me like it’s my fault she can’t squish in any further.
“What kind of pills are those?” Squatting on her heels, the early reader pats the orange tabby.
“Umm… Vitamins.” Hoping to change the subject, I place a cup of milk and a small chocolate square on the table in front of her.
“Pee-ness-weenis, la-la-la.” As she belts out her new song, her kindergarten teacher, Sister Dorothy comes to mind, and I swallow back a laugh.
“I don’t think you should sing that at school. Want another brownie?”
“No thank you. I’m not allowed but you can put it in a baggie, it’s almost time for dinner.”
“Okay then.” I slip Mikey out of his chair. “C’mon pal, it’s payback time for Uncle Joey.”
To the tune of a very catchy, very loud, new hit song, I pack up my laptop and grab my coat.
On the bottom floor, I walk into the living room and put my son in my cousin’s lap. “You woke him up and now I need an uninterrupted hour of work. I’m going to the office.”
“No problem-o.”
As he shrugs, his daughter pipes up, “Uncle Suds got a package of pe-”
