Whatsername

"I've got a whoopee cushion and ladida. I've got a whoopee cushion and I..." Tre sang the next morning, running into my bedroom and pausing as he scratched his head, "can't think of anything that rhymes...."

"Tre, why must you come in here singing every morning?" I groaned, covering my head with my pillow. Well, I guess Billie made it up the stairs... I thought to myself as Tre sat on the edge of the bed.

"I don't know." He shrugged, taking the pillow from me and throwing it across the room. "But guess where I woke up this morning."

"China?"

"No... my couch!"

"Fascinating," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Yes, it is.... I don't remember coming home," he mumbled, sounding quite confused.

"You fell asleep in Mike's car after dinner. He brought you home," I explained tiredly.

"Oh, and where are the boys?"

"Adrienne had Billie bring them back last night."

"Ah, and why do I smell like taco seasoning?" he asked, lifting up the sleeve of his shirt and sniffing it.

I sighed, rolling my eyes after realizing he hadn't changed from the day before. "Because you're a messy eater."

"Right. Where do you think I should put this last whoopee cushion?" he asked, holding it up. My eyes widened slightly after remembering the absurd amount of them he had insisted on getting the day before. Figuring they were probably all over the house by now, I groaned, glaring at Tre.

"Tre, I swear, if you've hid one of those and I sit on it, you're gonna loose your remaining testicle," I threatened.

"Okay, okay. In that case, I suggest you do not sit in the third chair on the left side in the dining room, the armchair in the living room-- and don't step on the rug in the hall."

"Third chair on the left... that's Billie's seat," I said after thinking about it.

Tre smirked. "Mhmm. Now make me breakfast!" he yelped, running out of the room. I sighed, standing up to follow him. Every morning it was either Tre or Jakob running into my room, asking-- or demanding-- me to make them breakfast. Mostly Tre, though.... Jakob could occasionally find his own breakfast-- but Tre, never. He only knew how to make smores, evidently. I wondered how Tre found food before I was there to make it for him. He probably just bugged the hell out of Mike until he cooked him something. He told me Mike makes good spaghetti....

"What do you want to eat?" I yawned, walking into the kitchen to find Tre sitting on the counter, reading a newspaper... upside down. I swear, no matter how many insane things that man does, everyone of them surprise me.

"Ham and eggs," he muttered, his eyes still focused on the paper.

"Okay," I said, walking to the fridge. "Why, may I ask, are you reading the paper upside down?"

"It's harder to read. More of a challenge," he mumbled.

"Ah, I see," I said, rolling my eyes as I turned on the stove.

"What does e-r-a-c backwards spell?" he asked.

"Care..." I sighed.

"Oops," he laughed, sounding slightly embarrassed that he had been that oblivious. I rolled my eyes. "Oh, Kate?"

"Hm?"

"You don't have pants on. Just thought I'd tell you so you don't go nuts when you find out, like last time." I looked down and saw I was wearing what I had on the day before-- minus my pants. I didn't remember taking my pants off, so that only left one other explanation...

"Billie," I whispered, glaring at the pan of eggs in front of me.

"Hm?"

"Nothing...."

"Okaaaay....You know what we need?" he asked, finally setting the paper down.

"What?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Pepper," he said, suddenly standing up and running out of the room.

"Tre, I have pepper right here!" I yelled, and I heard the front door close. A few minutes later, I heard someone walk in. Thinking it was Tre, I sighed and continued what I was doing, trying not to burn Tre's food. "I have pepper right here."

"That's nice, but I don't want pepper. Love the outfit, by the way," I heard Billie whisper in my ear as he smacked my butt. I gasped and turned my head, watching him walk over to the refrigerator, humming happily to himself. He must have just gotten out of the shower; his hair was still wet, and I could smell his soap from where I was standing. He closed the refrigerator, smirking as he looked back at me. "What?" he asked innocently as he opened the root beer he had gotten and took a sip.

"Nothing," I squeaked, turning back to what I was doing and clearing my throat. "Are you going somewhere?" I asked, noticing he was dressed more than his normal breakfast attire.

"Yeah, I didn't tell you already?" he asked, sounding surprised.

"No, not that I know of...."

"Oh. I've got an interview with a magazine, so I'll be back sometime this afternoon," he explained, walking back over to me and glancing down at the sizzling piece of ham in the pan. "What are you making?"

"Ham and eggs for Tre. Want some?"

"No thanks, don't have time. I've gotta get going."

"You're gonna leave me alone with Tre all day?" I asked, pouting. "Last time you left me here with him, he was planning a cross-dressing party. Do you really think it's safe?"

"Don't worry, you'll be fine," he sighed, rolling his eyes. "As long as you put pants on...."

"Yeah, about that," I said, turning toward him, waiting for an explanation. He glanced down at his watch.

"Can't talk now, gotta go. See ya' when I get back," he said, quickly running out of the kitchen. "Bye, princess!"

"I'm not a princess, damn it!" I yelled and stubbornly stamped my foot as I heard Billie giggle from outside.

"I'm back, my darling!" Tre announced, running into the kitchen and hopping back onto the counter a few minutes later. "And I'd have to agree with you there. You're not a princess. Most princesses wear pants."

"Be quiet," I said, rolling my eyes. "Why did you go outside? I have pepper right here."

"Oh, that had nothing to do with pepper. I had to steal Billie's neighbor's newspaper."

"Okaaaay, why did you have to steal the neighbor's newspaper?" I asked, handing him his food with a raised eyebrow.

"Well, you see, the dude's dog keeps coming over here and crapping on Billie's lawn, and Billie makes me pick it up, so now I steal the guy's newspaper, and he flips Billie off every time he sees him because he thinks he's doing it," he explained as he shoved his breakfast into his mouth as fast as he could. "You get it now?"

"No, I think I'm more confused now than I was before...," I said, staring at him. After a few minutes of watching him eat, I rolled my eyes and made my way toward the door. "I'm gonna go, um, take a shower and get dressed."

"Okay, hurry up. I have tons of fun and exciting things planned for us today!" he squealed excitedly.

I stopped in the doorway and turned around to face him, eyebrows raised. "Come again?"

"You heard me! Go get dressed! Although, some of my activities are clothing optional..." he trailed off, smirking.

Turns out, Tre's plans weren't as "fun" and 'exciting" as he had promised. After several agonizingly slow hours of sitting on the couch, while Tre begged me to play naked Twister, Monopoly, Clue, and other nude versions of classic family games, we were still sitting on the couch, bored out of our minds. We had tried watching TV, but Tre had gotten mad at the remote and thrown it across the room after realizing he had missed Baywatch.

"What time is it?" Tre mumbled, grabbing my wrist and pulling it towards him. "Hah, look where the banana is!" he giggled, pointing to the hour hand of the watch Billie got me. I looked at my watch; it was six o'clock, and the hour hand was pointing directly in between the monkey's legs, and the banana was looking very... un-banana-like....

"You're such a perv," I said, rolling my eyes as he continued to giggle.

"I'm not a perv! You're the one wearing a watch with a monkey jacking off on it!" he laughed. "Where'd you get that, anyway?"

"Um, Chuck E. Cheese's.... Billie got me it."

"Really? Why'd he do that?" he asked, confused.

"I don't know-- maybe 'cause he wanted to be nice?" I shrugged, biting my lip.

"Ah. Well, here," he said, reaching into his pocket, "you can have this." He grinned, handing me a finger trap.

"Thanks," I mumbled, setting it down on the coffee table. "Why is it taking Billie so long?"

Tre shrugged. "I don't know." After a few more minutes of staring at the black screen on the television, Tre jumped up from the couch, squealing. "Ooooh! I thought of another game!"

"No!" I yelled. "Just sit down and wait for Billie to come back."

"Fine, bossy," Tre pouted and sat back down next to me. "We won't play au naturel Uno...."