He chose the lavender, and I grabbed the aqua, so our blotters matched his costume. We sat side by side with our cards in front of us, eyes trained on the bingo caller when the game began.
We laughed our way through the first game, nudging one another’s shoulders after damn near every number, whispering about how the game gods must already be displeased with us because we had fewer than six numbers blotted between us before a little dressed in a frog onesie cried out "Bingo!" and hopped up the aisle to show the bingo caller his card. Once it was confirmed, he retrieved his prize, squealing when he found a stuffed animal that was a turtle with a frog on its back. I spied a unicorn peeking out from behind it and wondered if Payden had spotted it too.
It might not be a good idea to draw his attention to it, I told myself as we settled in for the next game, since every seat in the room was filled, creating a fierce sense of competition after every new letter-number combination was announced.
It got to where I started dialing in on the anxious, excited intake of breath Payden sucked in when he heard the letter, often followed by his grumbles, and I swear he cussed those numbers out in the least offensive way possible, though I know he called thirteen a stinky old bad luck sign.
He was so busy giggling when the number sixty-nine was called that he forgot to blot it, so I blotted it on his card and then on my own, suddenly staring at a line of aqua running diagonally across the page.
“Bingo!” I said, waving my card in the air.
It wasn’t until I headed up there with a bunch of eyes on me that I got nervous, hoping I hadn’t fucked it up, but the line was there, in aqua bright enough to damn near glow when the light hit it, so hopefully…
I passed it over, eyes darting to the unicorn again, despite knowing it was still there, since only one prize had been claimedso far. As soon as they confirmed my bingo, I made a beeline for it, spotting unicorn cupcakes beneath it with little unicorn duck bath floats pressed into the frosting.
Oh shit.
Now, which one to fucking snag him?
Okay, cupcakes in a room full of littles weren't going to last long, so I had to hope the… Oh shit, wait a minute. I pulled the cupcake container, and the unicorn stuffy moved with it, tied to the lid of the package with a bow. It was so damned cute, sitting there with all its green and lavender hues and sparkly mane and tail, holding fluffy balloons in its hoof, that I truly couldn’t believe my luck. This was a serious prize right here, and I kept it hidden as best I could on my way back to our table.
“Unicorn treats for my little unicorn,” I declared, presenting the cupcakes and stuffy to him.
“Ohhhh.”
His hands flew to his lips, eyes widening before tearing up to the point that I was afraid he’d start sobbing.
“Oh my gosh!” He gushed, “They have bath duckies on them. And they're all different. We get to eat the cupcakes and play with the unicorn ducks later. Thank you. You didn’t have to choose something for me when you’re the one who won.”
“And I chose him and his treats,” I said, stroking the top of the unicorn stuffie's fluff. “And then I chose to give them to you because you like stuffies.”
“I love cupcakes too, and now we get to have dessert while we play the next game,” he declared, popping the box open then and there and holding one cupcake out to me.
I ate it from his hand, making nom-nom sounds when I reached his fingers, just to make him squeal and laugh as he pulled them away. Of course, turnabout was fair play, and I fed him one too, then we rushed to catch up on our blotting when the game started without us.
We didn't win that one, or the one after it, but halfway through the fifth game, Payden sat up a bit straighter in his seat and started staring at his card, an intensely focused look on his face that involved the tip of his tongue poking out from between his lips as he sat with his blotter poised over the card. It was obvious why, too, he needed one number, his dreaded thirteen, to be called and he’d have bingo three different ways.
That meant three prizes, and I could tell that he knew it too.
“B….”
Oh, she drew it out, making him squirm.
Payden’s tongue poked out further, his body curling more, inching the blotter closer to the page.
“7.”
Woosh, all the air went out of him. I could practically see him deflate, scowling, before this hopeful look crept back in when no one cried out, "Bingo!"
“B….”
The pause was making him squirrely in the most adorable way. His eyes widened, and he was right back to vulture position, poised and ready to strike.
“13.”
“Bingo, bingo, bingo!” He cried, punctuating each word with a hard blot right over the number.
Hopefully, they could still read it when he got up there, because he tore up the aisle in a flurry of bouncing tail material, doing a happy dance while they checked his numbers.
