Family Dinner
By Dan Leicht
“Kids! Dinner!”
Two boys crawled out of a bedroom. They slugged their way down the stairs backwards on their stomaches, letting the carpet rub against them.
“Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh,” said the first boy.
When his brother was halfway down the second boy started his decsent.
“Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh.”
Their sister, thirteen, opened the door to her bedroom and rolled her eyes.
“Mom! They’re doing it again!”
Both boys together, “She’s lying!”
At the dinner table: Mashed potatoes, pork chops, gravy, corn on the cob, apple sauce, Dad’s hot sauce that he puts on everything.
“Can I have some hot sauce?” asked the youngest boy.
“It’s too hot for you, Nathan,” replied his mother. “Jennifer can you pass me the gravy?”
“Come get it yourself,” replied Jennifer. “And it’s Jenn.”
“It won’t be too hot,” said Nathan.
“Get your leg away from me,” said Jenn to her other brother Troy.
“I can’t help it this table is too small.”
“Jenn, pass me the gravy.”
“Ugh, Troy, pass this to mom.”
“Be nice, Jennifer,” said their father.
“It’s Jenn, dear,” corrected their mother.
“I want some hot sauce,” repeated Nathan. “I won’t eat this unless I get hot sauce.”
“You’re not bringing that sauce to the table anymore, honey.”
“Wha — ?” Her husband gave a puzzled look. He shook some sauce onto his pork chop and replaced the cap.
Nathan stood up on his seat and grabbed the bottle. He unscrewed the cap and placed the bottle against his lips. Jenn started laughing, mashed potatoes oozed out of Troy’s mouth, their father cut into his pork chop, their mother stood up and tried to get the bottle away in time. Nathan swallowed a molten gulp.
“That’s not even hot,” replied Nathan.
“Wait for it,” said their father, stabbing a piece of pork chop.
“Mom!” cried Nathan.
“I’ll get the milk,” said their mother.
“I’ll get him a piece of ice,” said Troy, struggling to push his chair back so he could get out.
“Mom, my head is on fire. I can feel it. My insides are like a volcano. Make it stop, make it stop.”
His sister pressed send on her phone. “This is priceless,” she said.
“Drink this, sweety,” said his mother.
Nathan chugged the glass of milk and then dropped the plastic cup to the floor as he clenched his stomach.
“Now my stomach hurts,” he gurgled.
“Oh no, you’d better not. Mom, get him to the bathroom,” said Jenn, an anxious panic in her voice.
Troy grabbed his brother by the hand as the gurgling intensified. Their father poured gravy on his mashed potatoes.
“Aren’t you going to do something?” asked their mother to their father.
“This lesson will help build character,” he replied.
Their mother picked up the hot sauce and shook it’s contents onto her husband’s head. Jenn got out her phone. Nathan didn’t make it, which caused Troy to not make it either.
