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“How was school today?” I asked my son.
“Good,” he replied.
“And daycare?” I asked my daughter.
“There was a slight problem,” Harrison said.
“I don’t want to go back there anymore,” Daphne said.
“What happened, cupcake?” I’d taken to calling her that ever since Elyse’s interview.
“There’s this boy. Joshua. He calls me names.”
“What kind of names does he call you?” By the look of consternation on her face, I doubted that “cupcake” was one of them.
Daphne straightened her shoulders and puffed out her cheeks. “He calls me a fucker and a sucker,” she announced.
I looked at Tracy; she looked at me. We both burst into great whoops of laughter.
“Very nice, ladies,” Harrison admonished. “Very grown up.”
“Will you come with me to daycare tomorrow and tell him not to call me a fucker and a sucker anymore?” Daphne asked, clearly emboldened by our reaction.
“I think you can handle that all by yourself,” I told her when I could find my voice.
“Just tell him to go fuck himself,” Tracy said.
“Okay, kids,” Harrison said quickly. “Why don’t you go upstairs and watch TV in Mommy and Daddy’s room until dinner is ready.”
“Yay!” they both shouted, disappearing up the stairs.
“Really?” Harrison asked Tracy.“ ‘Tell him to go fuck himself’?”
Tracy shrugged. “Come join us.” She patted the cushion beside her. “You might want to take the stick out of your ass before you sit down.”
I had to bite down on my lower lip to stifle a budding but untimely smile. Too late. Harrison had seen it and I could tell that he was annoyed.
“I think I’ll try to get some work in before dinner,” he said. “Maybe you could talk to the supervisor at daycare tomorrow, get this straightened out.”
We watched him climb the stairs until he was out of sight. “Didn’t he used to be a lot more fun?” Tracy asked.
