Sometimes that analogy worked.
Tonight, it did not.
“I’m FULL of sleep charge and EMPTY of food!” Gil tried to slither down the hallway towards the kitchen instead of back to his bedroom and Bruno blocked his path and steered him the other way.
“You won’t starve before morning.”
“I WILL TOO. I’LL STARVE AND BE A SKELETON AND YOU’LL BE SORRY.” Gil went limp against Bruno’s hands, not exactly resisting, but definitely not helping with their journey down the hall.
“I’ll take that risk,” Bruno said, pushing against the unexpectedly liquid boy. “It’s time for bed.”
“It’s time for FOOD.” Gil’s voice took on a note of challenge. “I’m HUNGRY.”
“You should have eaten more at dinner,” Bruno said, trying not to sound cross. He didn’t want Gil to be hungry, but it was frustrating trying to feed him when he didn’twant to eat and then get him into bed when he didn’t want to go. Was hereallyhungry because he hadn’t had enough dinner or was it just a ploy?
“I’m SORRY,” Gil said, his face falling in a whiplash change of mood. “I WASN’T hungry THEN and I AM now. My tummy is too empty to sleep.”
Bruno knew he shouldn’t give in, but this was a battle with no winning. “You can have a half a glass of milk. Asmallglass.”
Gil gave him a sunny smile and Bruno knew he’d been had. Gil scampered past him to the kitchen, dragged the step stool to the counter, and climbed it to get one of the plastic cups from the bottom cabinet shelf. “I’m like a MONKEY!” he said. “Do you know any MONKEY SHIFTERS? There aren’t any MONKEY SHIFTERS at TINY PAWS. I wish I could grow up to be a MONKEY. Or a TEACHER! Or a SYGOLOGIST! I could fix brains, like you.”
Bruno got the milk out and poured the glass half full. “That would be a good job,” he agreed with a sigh.
“OR I COULD BE A FIRE ENGINE!”
This required siren noises, and nearly spilling the milk as Gil skidded to the table to sit in his booster seat.
“Drink up,” Bruno nagged, as Gil took the tiniest sips he could manage to stretch it out. “We don’t have all night.”
Gil swung his legs and took another tiny sip.
Bruno was just debating whether he could make it go faster with a funnel or a turkey baster when his phone rang. He recognized the clutch in his gut as a trauma response. “Tracy,” he answered flatly.
“HI MOM!” Gil hollered in the background.
“Hey, Hon.”
Bruno ground his teeth and reminded himself that shewas Southern and this wasn’t an attempt to manipulate him. Give her the benefit of the doubt. Don’t assume the worst. “What do you need?” he asked shortly.
“I thought I’d call and say goodnight to Gil,” she said airily.
Buno stuffed back a dozen snarky answers. “It’s after bedtime,” he pointed out.
“He’s still awake. I heard him.”
Bruno had no reason to keep Gil from talking with Tracy, so he gave Gil the phone and cleaned up the mess that he’d made on the table with his milk while Gil trotted away. It was important that the boy nurture ties with his mother when possible, he told himself.
Gil brought the phone back after just a few minutes. “ALL DONE!” he said. “I have to PEE.” He scampered down the hall.
Tracy was still on the line. “What islespery? Is Gil being bullied?”
“Leprosy,” Bruno groaned. “I don’t think anything has escalated to bullying. Just a little teasing. I don’t think it will amount to anything.”
“Is that your professional opinion?" Tracy asked pointedly. “Why leprosy?”
“Because nine-banded armadilloscanbe carriers of leprosy.”
Tracy was silent. “And he’s…”
