Baby's Birthday...part one...

A week before my third birthday, Daddy came home. Forever, he said, because the Navy didn’t need him anymore. We thought it would be fun, but a full-time daddy is, like Grandpa Boone said, a whole ‘nother thing. Grandma Boone made a picnic to welcome him home, and we hardly started eating when Daddy started scooping everything up and running to the fridge. Sam and Ella would get us, he said. Grandma Boone rolled her eyes and Grandpa Boone said just wait ‘til he got to be a for-real doctor. We’d have our donkeys in a sling.

Next morning we had to wait and wait and wait for breakfast because Daddy was busy washing all the dishes. He said we had to eat like civilized ham and beans instead of throwing a gob of food on a paper plate and calling it dinner. Kody had a royal fit because it was breakfast we wanted, not dinner, but Daddy only got all squinty and his lips disappeared. Then we started kicking the chair and table legs, going, “Wah, wah, wah. Sis boom bah. We want eggs without their legs and we will beg until we’re dead.” When we started beating our fists on the table, Daddy stamped his foot and told us to stop it. Then Kody changed it to, “…we will beg until YOU’RE dead.” I was too scared to say that, but I giggled. Kody was the bravest person I ever knew. He’d spit in the devil’s eye, said Grandpa Boone. Grandma Boone finally came in and gave us soda crackers, and if Daddy didn’t like it, she’d call the police, she said.

When we went out to play Tiger and Bear, Daddy said the yard was a disgrace and how many years was it since anybody mowed. Then he found the lawnmower, which was all rusty, and he hollered about that for a while until Grandpa Boone found some oil in the shed. Grandma Boone gave us peanut butter and baloney sandwiches on the back porch, just like always, and Daddy was too busy with the lawnmower to pay any attention. Later that afternoon he yelled at us to get out of the jungle ‘cause Tarzan was on the way. He gave a big run with the pushmower and flipped right on over when he hit the grass. He kept charging for a while and got red in the face. Then he kicked the mower for a while, yanked it out of the grass the blades were tangled in, heaved it up over his head and spun around and around with it, saying all kinds of Navy words, and then he let go and the mower flew up and up, and came down in the middle of the jungle, where it was swallowed and would never be seen again. At least that’s what Grandpa Boone said, but Kody found it the next day and showed me. He said it was a sacred burial ground and we should watch out for elephants.

Then we had a laundry day and when that didn’t work so well, Daddy gave us a general clean up all around day. It was awfully noisy and it wore Daddy out. He said we were definitely not shipshape. Grandma Boone said we weren’t on a boat and she could already hear the police sirens coming to answer his retort. Kody got his holster and his six-guns, and actually let me hold his Junior Ranger rifle. Police had guns, he said, and we better get ready because Daddy wasn’t going to settle down.

The next day Daddy got all spruced up and Grandma Boone said it was a miracle or worse because now he was going off to church to get some religion. Kody and I didn’t know what that meant but she hushed us and told Kody to get the Pooh book and read to me. Kody could read anything, and he tried to show me how, but I just didn’t get it. Meanwhile Grandma stood looking out the window and when she started to cry. Grandpa Boone put his arms around her and they stood looking out the window together. We crept up to take a peek but there wasn’t anything different outside than anytime before.

That afternoon Daddy brought a pretty lady home with him and said she was going to be our new mom. “For my birthday?” I said. Everybody laughed and Daddy said it was the best present he could think up. Kody gave her a sideways look and said, “Maybe.” I thought it might be he was jealous because it was the best birthday present ever and it wasn’t his. Also, I guess he remembered our first mom. I tried hard to remember but I just couldn’t.

That night the Maybe Mom fixed us dinner. Kody sat down when Daddy told him to, which was kind of surprising, but he banged his fork and spoon on the table, demanding beans, and that wasn’t a surprise at all. “Beans, beans: the musical fruit,” he sang, “The more you eat, the more you toot, If you don’t toot, you’ll fade away So eat your beans and toot today!” Daddy frowned and Maybe got a funny look on her face. Then she scooped macaroni and cheese on our plates, along with a spoonful of peas. Kody shrieked and flipped out of his chair, sending it crashing, and threw just about the best fit I ever saw. “He doesn’t like peas,” I said. Maybe looked puzzled for a minute and then she scooped the peas back off his plate. It didn’t help. The peas had touched, said Kody, so it was still poison