He quickly flips it over and pulls at the back to open it, but I snatch it from him.
“Don’t open it now,” I say, holding it above my head out of reach.
“Okay,” he says with a puppy dog look.
“No, promise me.” I don’t move my hand.
“Okay. I promise.” His chin lowers and he rolls his eyes upward when I hand it back.
I just hope he’s down for what’s inside.
26.Christopher
Tuesday - December 24
“You’ve had worse in your mouth.”
Kelly urges me on, like I’m some kind of performing seal. Her friends, sitting around her lounge on couches and dining chairs, loudly cheerTake it, take itas I scan the eight remaining baby bottles, all filled with yellow liquid.
“Not a chance,” I say, my arms crossed like a petulant teenager.
It was embarrassing enough playing pin the sperm on the womb in front of my mum. She’s still sitting there with her arms crossed, unimpressed by all these games that Kate, Kelly’s friend, arranged for the baby shower.
Sometimes I wonder if my mum wishes she’d had dogs instead of children.
Sometimes I wish she did.
The egging on gets louder and my ears start to ring.
“All right,” I say, shaking my head and reluctantly picking up one of the bottles, wanting this all to be over.Drink it. Drink it,the women chant in unison. I turn my back to them, hold the bottle to my mouth, close my eyes, and squeeze the teat with my teeth.
The sweet taste of apple juice hits my tongue, and I immediatelyfight back a smile. If I’m going to have to sit through all of this, I might as well make it entertaining.
I turn, pull a disgusted face, which has all the women laughing at my perceived misfortune, and then grab the teat between my finger and thumb, aiming it toward my sister. The apple juice shoots out in a straight line, hitting her champagne-pink Mummy To Be sash.
The room erupts into screams and shrills, everyone’s face a combination of shock and nausea, as Kelly dry retches.
My mum reaches over and whacks my arm.
“Stop being so childish, Christopher.”
She shakes her head and gets up to help Kelly take off the sash.
“Come on, it’s only apple juice.” I shake my head at their disapproving looks.
Ugh.
I wish I’d gone with Daniel and his mates for Christmas Eve drinks.
All this baby shower malarkey is making me sick to my stomach.
“They all are.” Kate finally says, leaving the room for the kitchen once the commotion dies down. Her face is filled with contempt, because that means the games, the organized fun, is now over.
Organized fun?
More like organized torture.
Kate returns to the lounge, cake in hand, and Kelly rearranges the food spread out on the table, so it can be put down. Everyone gets up and heads to the table.
