It was not that Sam didn’t appreciate his mom cooking a nutritious meal; it was having to wear a bib that bothered him.
“Mom, I promise I’ll be careful.”
“Now Sam, just last week you ruined a perfectly good tie.”
Sam’s ears turned red. He stirred his split pea soup. “Mom, no one else I know has to wear a bib.”
“Oh sweetheart, have the boys at the office been teasing you again?”
“No, it’s not that...” Sam blushed as he thought of Marie, her dark hair falling into her eyes as she leaned over his shoulder to point at something on the computer screen. She smelled like...well, not like mother.
Sam’s mother stepped over and kissed his cheek. “You know nobody loves you like I do. I’m only looking out for you. How unprofessional would it look to have stains on those nice silk ties?”
Sam nodded. He always nodded.
“Now eat your soup. It’s almost bedtime.”
Sam ate his soup. Then he carried his bowl to the sink, rinsed it, and put it in the dishwasher. He started up the stairs to his bedroom.
“Oh Sam,” his mother called out, “don’t forget to put on your ‘uh-oh’ pants!”
Laura Harvey lives in Colorado with her husband and three daughters. Now that the youngest is in school full-time, she finally has time to write, and is loving every minute of it.
© 2007 Laura Harvey. Original for CCF (Harvey grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology).
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