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“Yeah, you know the can, the john, the head.”
Jeff scrubbed his hand over his face. “Can we maybe not teach him every slang for the bathroom on the first day?”
Ryan winced. “Sorry.” He turned to Max and bowed slightly. “Maxwell, would you like to accompany me to the lavatory?” Ryan asked in the most ridiculous English accent he’d ever heard.
Max giggled. “You’re funny. I just have to go pee.”
Ryan chuckled. “Let’s do it.”
“I’ll come too.” Pete eyed Gonzo. “Sorry man, you’re on your own.”
Max jumped from the table and followed Ryan and Pete across the restaurant. As soon as he was out of earshot, Jeff turned to Gonzo.
“I can’t believe you gave my kid a fucking whoopee cushion. I’m trying to get Kia to trust me with Max and you’re over here having him make people fart in restaurants. That shit doesn’t help, man.”
“How does it not help? Kids are supposed to have fun uncles. That’s like a whole thing.”
“Fun uncles?”
“Yeah, you know every family has them. There’s creepy Uncle Sal with the lazy eye who you’re never quite sure if he’s looking at your face or your boobs.”
“Jesus, that’s oddly specific,” Jeff muttered.
Gonzo smirked. “And then there’s cool Uncle Gonz who gives you whoopee cushions.”
“Why are you Uncle Gonz and not just Gonzo exactly?”
He shrugged. “I want to be the cool uncle.”
“Dude, you have like twenty siblings. Be their uncle.”
“I have five siblings and none of them have kids. I want to be the cool uncle now,” he whined.
“You’re a loser.”
“Loser? Or fucking coolest uncle ever?”
“I think we both know the answer to that.” Jeff shook his head at his friend. They both knew the answer, but he was sure as shit they weren’t thinking the same thing.
The sound of Max’s voice drew his attention across the room. He smiled as he watched his son animatedly talking to Ryan and Pete. The trio wove their way back to the table.
Gonzo nudged his shoulder. “I’m sorry about the whoopee cushion, man. I thought it would be funny.”
When they returned to the table, Max eyed the seat as he climbed up and frowned when he saw the empty chair. Disappointment etched across his face.
“It’s fine,” Jeff told Gonzo. Seeing the disappointment on his son’s face, he understood why his friend had done the gag. The pure joy on Max’s face when the cushion had gone off had been pretty incredible. Maybe Gonzo was right and it had been worth facing Kia’s wrath.
Gonzo turned to Max. “Sorry buddy.” He nodded to the table of women beside them. “I didn’t think they’d be able to handle another explosive fart from our table while they’re eating.” He leaned over and stage whispered, “They’d probably make me pay for their dinner cuz they’d lose their appetite, and I’m saving my pennies for a house.”
Max’s forehead wrinkled. “You don’t have a house?” He turned to Jeff. “He should stay with you, Dad.”
Damn, the kid was cute. “No, he has a house, buddy. He’s just looking at buying a different place.”
Max turned to Gonzo. “How come?”
Gonzo leaned back in his chair and crossed his hands over his belly. “Well, now that’s a story.”
Pete groaned. “Don’t get him started, Maxie.”
