The Boy: MomMomMomMom. What’s this?
K: It’s 25 cents. We call it a quarter.
TB: A quarter. That’s what I need.
K: Why do you need a quarter?
TB: For Harrison Michael’s candy machine.
And he placed the quarter in the pocket of his shirt.
I love the Cake Lady but what person has a candy machine in the kid’s toy room? She blames it on The Mister, but either way, it’s bad news. Just last week the boys figured out how to shake it with just enough velocity to make some candy come out. Apparently The Mister fixed that problem but someone has done the math that the candy machine requires “a quarter.”
Fastforward 5 hours later when we go over to Harrison Michael’s house. I dropped The Boy off and left. Five minutes later I got a phone call.
Cake Lady: You are NOT going to believe it. I just went into the toy room and they looked like chipmunks with Skittle juice running down their faces. I made them spit them out.
K: In your hands?
CL: Hell yeah. I have to be with them. I don’t want them all cracked out.
K: Maybe I should explain. Eat figured out that he needed a quarter.
That was last week. We are going on day 5 that The Boy knows he needs a quarter. I now feel the need to turn him upside down and shake him before taking him across the street to play. Just this morning, I caught him in his father’s drawer routing around. He skipped right over the $150 knife, the two sharpie markers, and keys to God only knows what. I watched him slowly, stealthily slip a quarter out of the drawer and put it into his pocket. Just as quietly he closed the drawer.
K: WHAT ARE YOU DOING????
He jumped two feet in the air, which is about 2 feet taller than he is.
TB: I’m not doing anything. I didn’t touch anything. I didn’t get dad’s quarter.
I’m not saying I advocate breaking and entering. I’m just saying that one day the Cake Lady and The Mister are going to come home to a home without two candy machines. And I’ll have an alibi. Cause I’m smart like that.