Great Diversion
Well, Not Quite a Sleepover.
"Daddy! Daddy!"
Tre could hear Frankito's footsteps running up the stairs. Frankito rounded the corner into Tre's drum room where he was laying on the floor, tightening a screw on a bass drum. Frankito ran over and sat down hard on his dad's stomach.
"Ugh, god Kitsoo, not so hard," Tre said grimacing.
"Sorry, daddy," Frankito said taking off his little backpack and setting it on the floor next to Mr. Fumbles, the goat.
"What'd you do in school?" Tre asked, sitting up and adjusting Frankito from his stomach to his lap.
"Nothing."
"Yeah, you don't really do much in kindergarten, do ya?"
"Nope," Frankito said, shrugging his shoulders. "Daddy, I miss you."
"Why? I'm right here, you know," Tre said confusedly.
"But sometimes you're not. Sometimes I go into your room at night 'cause I have scary dreams and you're not there. Then I get more scared 'cause I can't find you."
"Oh, honey," Tre hugged him tight. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were scared."
"Where'd you go?"
Tre thought for a minute, before reaching for Mr. Fumbles.
"Well," he sighed. He was trying to figure out how to explain this to a kindergartener. "Sometimes I go to a friend's house."
"Like a sleepover?" Frankito asked.
"Uh, yeah, like a sleepover."
"Can I come sometime?" he looked excited.
"Oh, uh, no," Tre stammered. Shit, how was he going to get out of this one? "No, honey, I don't think so."
"Oh," Frankito said solemnly. It was quiet for a moment, then his face brightened.
"Me and Mr. Fumbles are hungry."
"Oh, you are?" Tre said, ruffling his son's hair. "Well, let's go find something for you two to eat."
Tre could hear Frankito's footsteps running up the stairs. Frankito rounded the corner into Tre's drum room where he was laying on the floor, tightening a screw on a bass drum. Frankito ran over and sat down hard on his dad's stomach.
"Ugh, god Kitsoo, not so hard," Tre said grimacing.
"Sorry, daddy," Frankito said taking off his little backpack and setting it on the floor next to Mr. Fumbles, the goat.
"What'd you do in school?" Tre asked, sitting up and adjusting Frankito from his stomach to his lap.
"Nothing."
"Yeah, you don't really do much in kindergarten, do ya?"
"Nope," Frankito said, shrugging his shoulders. "Daddy, I miss you."
"Why? I'm right here, you know," Tre said confusedly.
"But sometimes you're not. Sometimes I go into your room at night 'cause I have scary dreams and you're not there. Then I get more scared 'cause I can't find you."
"Oh, honey," Tre hugged him tight. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were scared."
"Where'd you go?"
Tre thought for a minute, before reaching for Mr. Fumbles.
"Well," he sighed. He was trying to figure out how to explain this to a kindergartener. "Sometimes I go to a friend's house."
"Like a sleepover?" Frankito asked.
"Uh, yeah, like a sleepover."
"Can I come sometime?" he looked excited.
"Oh, uh, no," Tre stammered. Shit, how was he going to get out of this one? "No, honey, I don't think so."
"Oh," Frankito said solemnly. It was quiet for a moment, then his face brightened.
"Me and Mr. Fumbles are hungry."
"Oh, you are?" Tre said, ruffling his son's hair. "Well, let's go find something for you two to eat."