“Kyle.” Dad grabbed him by the collar in an attempt to wipe the smirk off his twelve-year-old face. “That’s enough.”
Kyle had a quick wit as well as a propensity for trouble. Like me, he rarely learned from his mistakes. But Kyle took it to the next level, adding that extra little bit of comic relief to his performance. Really, he’d missed his calling. Kyle should have been a child actor because he could easily be mistaken for the bratty kid brother on any television sitcom seriesever. Granted, I was a lot of work too, but at least I could sit through an entire dinner without uttering ‘naked lady’ like forty frickin’ times.
“Don’t blame me.” Kyle shrugged. “I was just pointing out the flaws in his composition.”
“SHUT UP!” Quinn screamed, raising the eyebrows of the patrons at the tables nearest us.
I swung my head toward Mom, knowing she’d never let such a display go unanswered, and I wasn’t disappointed. Lowering her voice, Mom leaned in, instantly transforming from mild-mannered mommy to scowling beast before our very eyes. “If I have to warn either of you again to be civilized in the restaurant, I’ll drag both of you by the ear into separate corners of the dining room. Would you two really like to face the wall in front of everyone?”
Ah, yes. She’d gone with public humiliation. Excellent choice. It had always been a favorite of hers. And, I must say, from past experience, it was a surprisingly effective punishment. Having faced that wall myself once or twice, I knew she wasn’t bluffing. If Mom promised us a toddler timeout in the middle of a restaurant, that’s exactly what we’d better expect. Only as a wily teen had I figured a way around Mom’s combatant parenting style – sneak out and ask for forgiveness later. It wasn’t the best strategy, as I spent a significant portion of my life on restriction, but again, that’s what windows and early morning escapes were for.
Both Quinn and Kyle heeded the threat, wisely sealing their mouths shut and adopting a shaky truce for the sake of their respective dignities.
Satisfied with their compliance, Mom smoothed out her dress and transformed into the lovely woman she’d been moments before the altercation. She was a frickin’ rock star when it came to parenting.
Focusing her attention back on her youngest son, Mom offered him the loving relief that only a mother could and he sank into her arms, nestling his head into her neck.
“Me next. Me next,” Grace said, her shiny golden locks glowing in the recessed lighting. She hopped off her chair and crowded onto mom’s lap beside Quinn. Just shy of four years old, she was the baby of the family, and unlike Quinn’s tough love indoctrination, Grace enjoyed around-the-clock adoration. “I drew you a picture.”
“Oh, wow. I love it,” Mom said, glancing around the table at her older kids with a comical grimace on her face. “Sweetie, is this… um… blood?”
“No, Mommy,” she said in the cutest little voice. “It’s red flowers.”
“Okay, right, now I see it.” More cringing. “Are thosepeoplelying on a concrete slab?”
Grace nodded, clearly not understanding the word as she rattled off all the names in our family. “That’s Mommy and Daddy and Mitch and Keith and…”
Mom interrupted her to hold up the picture so the rest of us could get our first look. It was a gasp heard around the room. Baby Grace had drawn a bloody massacre. Bodies with stick arms and legs broken at forty-five degree angles littered the wide-ruled canvas. Setting aside any worries about her mental health, we oohed and aahed the budding assassin and made her feel like the most talented artist ever to slaughter her family on a birthday card.
“Kyle,” Dad asked, prying his worshipping eyes off his baby girl, “do you have anything for your mother?”
“Yeah.” With zero enthusiasm, he pulled a wad of stapled papers from his back pocket and tossed it across the table.
“Not the coupon book again,” Jake groaned. “You get her that every year.”
“Stop it, Jake.” Mom elbowed him. “I love it. Kyle’s coupon book is the gift that keeps on giving.”
Kyle’s eyes rolled on cue. “Yeah, well, just so you know, I added a terms and conditions section this year. Now there are time limits. No more twenty-minute massages or unlimited compliments.”
Mom smiled. “Understood. Come here and give me a hug.”
“A free hug is on page four. You have to rip it out first, otherwise I’m not coming over.”
Mom laughed as she extracted page four and held out the coupon to Kyle, who made a show of being annoyed even though he dutifully accepted the coupon and hugged her. He even waited patiently as she smothered his neck in kisses before setting him free.
“Yuck. I need to come up with a different birthday gift next year – one that doesn’t involve slobbering.”
“Here,” Jake said, sliding a notepad over to our mother. “My gift.”
Mom opened the notebook and read whatever it was that Jake had written. Within seconds, her eyes misted over, and she placed a hand to her heart. When she was done reading, she didn’t say anything. Instead she slid her arm around his back and gave him a kiss on the cheek. See what I mean? Kiss-ass.
“My turn.” Emma reached into a bag with an ear-to-ear smile as she passed an immaculately wrapped gift over to our mother. My eyes darted back and forth, taking in the unbelievable scene. Wait, what was happening here?
I glanced at my brothers, all of who wore the same horrified expression. Cheesy, stupid, last minute, homemade gifts – those were the rules.
Ripping off the gift-wrap, the birthday girl squealed in delight. “You didn’t!”
Emma clapped, her eyes glowing with excitement.
