Mom looked at me then at Becky.
She focused her attention back on me.
I picked up my hotdog.
I didn’t lift it to my mouth.
I held it just above the plate.
And then I bent over and slid my mouth down the bun.
I wanted to see how they handled the visual clue.
Becky glared at me.
I know she wanted to call me an asshole.
I had half the hotdog in my mouth when Becky kicked me in the shin.
I jerked, causing me to gag on the hotdog,
which I coughed into my plate,
my food going all over the table.
“Bobby!” Mom scolded me, “How many times have I told you not to stuff your mouth full of food?”
Still coughing a bit,
I eyed Becky.
“You’re going to clean the mess you made.”
“I’m sorry Mom.”
“Mom since Bobby has to clean the mess he made; can you take me shopping for fabric and a pattern?”
“I didn’t plan on doing that tonight, can’t it wait?”
Becky slumped in the chair,
“I guess. It’s just that a prom dress could take me some time to sew,
but if you’re to busy I understand.
I just wanted to do my best and get a good grade.”
Becky was good at making Mom feel guilty,
“What about your homework, is it all done?” I asked.
“Is your homework done?” Mom asked Becky.
“All except math, but that won’t take me long.”
Mom looked at me, “What about you, is your homework done?”
“All done,” I answered with pride.
“Good boy.”
“Since Bobby is done with his homework he can do the dishes,” Becky stated.
“You can do your homework while I clean,” I wanted to flip her off.
“That is a good idea,” Mom said standing up.
Becky gave me a dirty look, “Will you take me shopping after I’m done with my homework, please.”
“First get your homework done, and then I’ll see.”
I cleaned while Becky went to her room to do her homework and Mom took a load of laundry over to the laundry house.
“Hey Dweeb, where’s Mom?”
I ignored her.
“Where is Mom?” She asked louder.
I shrugged, “she left.”
“What! Where did she go? She promised.”
Just then, Mom walked in carrying the empty laundry basket.
“You’re an ass,” Becky told me.
“What was that?” Mom asked.
“I’m done with my homework. Can we go now?”
“I just put a load in the washer.”
I could see that Becky didn’t like hearing that.
When she looked at me I smiled;
she didn’t always have get her way. It was obvious that she was aggravated.
But Becky hated to lose,
“Since Bobby has his homework done; he can take care of the laundry.”
“We can go later,” Mom avoided being a referee.
“You promised. I finished my homework as you asked.”