Page 9 of Mister Mom

“Shit.” I squeeze my eyes shut in pain. My back falls to the door and I slide down until my ass is on the step and my hands are covering both sides of my head.

“Go away. I have a big monster in here and he’s going to eat you alive.” The kid’s muffled voice sounds from the other side of the door.

“No worries. Nothing is worth this.” I stand and walk down the last couple stairs until I remember how young the kid is. I’m not great with ages, but he seems younger than my buddy Dane’s son for sure, and he’s only eight.

So, against my better judgement, I trudge back up the stairs, squinting into the glare of the sun reflecting off the trailer.

I knock again.

“ROOOAAAARRRR!” I hear on the other side, followed by a bunch of scraping sounds.

My lips tip up into a smile. The kid actually thinks I’m buying the monster story.

I knock again.

Fists pound on the door in a rhythmic manner.

This kid could have a career as a sound engineer in his future.

“Hey, kid, I’m just looking for your mom.”

“She’s in the shower.” He doesn’t miss a beat, but the monster illusion has vanished.

Not to mention there’s no showers in the trailers. This is a smaller one. I’m sure Chris Pratt has one in his trailer, but Layla apparently hasn’t earned that privilege yet.

“Okay, I’ll just wait then.”

More silence. I’m not trying to freak the kid out, but right now the only thing standing between him and a six o’clock news story on the abduction of an up-and-coming Hollywood starlet’s son is me.

“She’s going to be a long time,” he says.

“I have nowhere else to be.” I sit down on the step and within a minute the sunshine starts to warm me, seeping into my skin. Thank God, it’s winter and not summer. Otherwise, I’d be sweating my balls off.

“You should go.” For the first time, I hear shakiness in his voice.

Shit, he’s scared.

I turn toward the door and I know he can’t see me, but I plaster on my biggest smile, hoping that shit people say about hearing the smile over the line is really true. “Listen, buddy, I can’t leave you by yourself. I’ll just wait out here until your mom comes back, okay?”

A loud bang hits the flimsy trailer door and I hope it’s him sitting on the other side.

“What’s the monster’s name?” I attempt to sound as friendly as possible.

“Max.”

“Strong name.”

“He’s huge. Like the Incredible Hulk.”

“Green?”

“Yeah. With a red bandana and he can spin on his back.”

I purse my lips. I think the kid’s got the Incredible Hulk and Rafael the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle a little confused.

“Does he wear ripped purple pants?”

“How did you know?” He honestly sounds shocked and I hold back a chuckle.

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