PART 1 (Written for Lehigh's Fiction Writers Class)

Samantha

         “Your kids are fat,” Nana said. Her mouth curled up at one end, as if an invisible

string was being pulled upward by the hand of God, and her eyebrows gathered tightly

as if falling down a tunnel above the bridge of her nose.

         Instead of saying Good morning, she says, “I couldn’t sleep last night, were you

guys having sex?”

         No. We were having great sex.

         “No! God, C’mon – like we’re gonna have sex with you right next door.” I

started pouring my coffee.

         One of the few pleasures of having an old person (who wakes up early) visiting,

is that they always wake up before you and do all the tedious morning chores you hate

doing: cleaning up, making coffee, letting the dogs out, cooking breakfast, bringing in

the paper, turning on the sprinklers, basically turning your house into a sweatshop for

the elderly. The bad thing – they get to catch you off guard before your eyes are

completely open. It is an unfair advantage these early risers have; you emerge onto the

battlefield unprepared – no armor, weak from hunger (or lack of caffeine), eyes still

glued half shut, dragon breath making you hesitant to open your mouth, and worst of

all, bra-less.

         Nana is ready; comfortable spandex leggings with a long, neon green t-shirt that

reads DAD, and ankle socks underneath her white Air Nikes. Nana’s hair is done -

every strand in place. Nana has her “war-face” on.

         Nana, from head to toe, was prepared for another day of war. Another typical

day of her saying and doing whatever she wanted and, because of her condition,

getting away with it.

         If she was so worried about my kids being fat she wouldn’t have woken up at the

ass-crack of dawn to cook them pancakes, bacon, sausage, chorizo eggs, hash browns,

banana nut bread, tortillas with half a stick of butter wrapped inside, and left over pork

chops from last night! Nana had two full glasses of milk poured and waiting for the

kids.

         At least milk is healthy.

         “My kids aren’t fat, they’re healthy.”

She opened the refrigerator and retrieved the Hershey’s Syrup.

(End of Part 1)

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