Page 49 of His Middle

Daddy chuckled. “You'll survive.”

Noah grabbed his throat with his free hand and made strangling noises. “I won’t, I won’t. I'll die.”

They reached the threshold of the den. “Okay, drama llama, tell Arlen you're sorry then you can play for a while until dinner’s ready.”

Noah faced Arlen, his hands clasped behind his back. He rocked on his heels. “I’m sorry Arlen. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. Wanna play?” He gave Arlen a big smile and wasn't even faking it.

“Okay.” Arlen smiled back. “I’m sorry too.”

Noah pumped the air with his fists and wiggled his butt back and forth. “Woo-hoo! Yeah! Waluigi is gonna kick your—”

He snapped his jaw shut.That was a close one. Noah snuck a peek at Daddy, who was shaking his head.

“Good catch. I'd better not hear any potty mouth in here, or you'll be starting all over again on a time out and it might end up lasting through dinner.”

Noah nodded vigorously. “You won’t. I’ll behave.”

Daddy ruffled his hair. “That’s my good boy. And nice job on the apology.” He winked then left the room.

Noah dropped onto the rug, sitting with his knees tucked beneath him. Arlen handed him the other controller and they went back to playing Mario Party mini games without any more mishaps. After what seemed like two minutes at the very most, Daddy called out from the kitchen.

“Come on boys. Go wash your hands and come to the table. Dinner's ready.”

Noah scrambled to his feet, excited to get a drumstick and gobs of ‘tatoes. Too bad the chicken leg wasn’t nuggets, but Daddy said they weren't eating any fried foods except as a treat when they went out or something. Since fried foods were his most favorite thing ever—besides chocolate and maple syrup—it hadn't been easy.

“All clean!” Noah waved his hands in the air as he and Arlen bumped shoulders, battling to be the first to reach the table.

“Slow down.”

Even though Daddy had his back to them, he always knew. Daddies were like that.

Daddy brought over two plates then set one in front of him and the other in front of Arlen.

“Thank you, Daddy.”

“Thank you, Mr. Peterson.”

Daddy smiled. “You're welcome. Go on and get started.”

Daddy turned to grab his own plate while Noah examined the contents of his. A drumstick and thigh. Good. Weird, unidentified spices on chicken skin. Not so good. Pretty decent mound of ‘tatoes. Nice, but maybe he could weasel his way into seconds if he ate all his beans.

Noah crinkled his nose at the beans.One, two, three...He let out a huff. Twenty-seven beans? How was it possible for him to eat twenty-seven nasty old beans? Daddy must be crazy.

Daddy had been busy pulling the lemon-lime soda bottle from the fridge and pouring them something to drink. If Noah picked dinnertime to have his daily soda, he wasn't allowed anything with caffeine.

Daddy set down their glasses then took a seat. He regarded Noah.

“Thank you for waiting, but I said you could start.”

Noah scraped his teeth along his bottom lip. “About these beans... How many do I have to eat before I get more ‘tatoes?”

Daddy sighed. “All of them. And you don't get to finish all the potatoes before starting on the beans either.” Daddy gave him the intense stare that didn't allow for argument.

Noah's shoulders slumped. “Oh, all right.”

Deciding he was better off forcing himself to eat the vegetables so he could get more ‘tatoes, he started tearing into his food. Arlen was already halfway through his meal and being extra gross by mixing his beansinwith the ‘tatoes. Not making fun of Arlen bordered on painful, but he didn't dare chance losing out on seconds.

At last, Noah choked down the last of the disgusting vegetables. He held up his plate triumphantly. “They’re all gone! ‘Tatoes now?”

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