Page 6 of Myths and Shifts

And strawberry.

And the pretty blue one.

“What flavor is blue?” Tugging on his hand, I pointed to the pretty one that sparkled but looked…dangerous? “That one. It’s sparkly.”

“Oh that’s…very bright.” Daddy was using his polite words, but his face said blue might be yucky. “Should we try it?”

Polite and he liked adventures.

That was the best kind of Daddy.

“Oh, it’s mine, Daddy. It sparkles.” The excited voice that popped up like a cute monster in a movie made Daddy sigh.

It was quiet, so it was okay.

But I had to save Daddy, so I turned and smiled. “What does blue taste like?”

Berries?

Weird gum?

Something that would turn me into Spider-Man?

“Bananas.”

Huh?

Daddy made a huh face too but he didn’t turn around until he had his Daddy face back on. “Thank you for letting us know.”

Daddy was going to put bananas on his no cake list.

“When did we get blue bananas?” Oh, it was one of the diner men. “Why don’t we have those in the diner? Walmart doesn’t got them either.”

Daddy kept looking polite until the man gave a big,bigsigh and glared at the blue cake. “We’re always the last to get the good stuff. We didn’t even get those new snack cakes until everyone else in the country got ‘em.”

Time to save Daddy again.

“That one, please.” Hurry. Hurry. Had to get my cake quick before I had to take Daddy away. We had to be nice and sometimes that was hard. “And that one and that one.”

What did Daddy want?

Nothing blue.

“And the Daddies will like that one and those two. You count even if you haven’t told the men at the diner.” I shrugged when Daddy raised one eyebrow. “You’ve got me, so now they know.”

Oh well.

“That’s very true. I have you, so now they know.” Daddy looked like he was still debating if he liked that idea, but the grumpy diner man kept distracting him by talking about weird ice cream that they never got either.

Daddy looked like he was going to complain about drama or manners or something, but I was a good helper and picked up the forks and even got our napkins. “Got it. I’m your helper.”

I was a great helper because I’d picked out the cake and kept him from getting in trouble.

We were visiting and that meant we had to be nice.

Everyone said so.

They also said we weren’t allowed to tell the locals they were weird or naughty or nosy.

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