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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1806967
Rated: E · Short Story · Contest Entry · #1806967
All dialogue: a mother comforts her son about turning one year older.
“Simon, don’t do this.”

“I don’t want to get older.”

“You’re not that much older, honey.”

“I’m turning 11! That’s old!”

“Honey, you’re not old. I wish I was 11 again.”

“No you don’t. You’re past the point of being old. That’s why you don’t care about your hair.”

“Ouch, buddy. I don’t know why you have to go there! But, I know what you’re going through. I mean, I turned 45… 42 a few months ago. And we watched Julie graduate from high school and move off to college and everything.

“I miss Julie.”

“Yeah, me too. But, like I was saying, my birthday was just like yours is now. A birthday cake, presents, and lots of friends to spend it with. I mean, a whole bunch of ‘em!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, buddy. But, if you keep at it, there’s going to be one thing different at your party that wasn’t at mine.”

“What’s that?”

A weeping birthday child.”

“I’m not weeping, Mom.”

“Well, you’re not jumpin’ around for joy. Most kids do that.”

“Most kids are weird.”

“And most kids don’t have 11 gifts to open this afternoon.”

“11?”

“Well, there are 11 boxes. I might’ve broken a few gifts down and wrapped the pieces up. Mom’s not rich, buddy.”

“You don’t have to be rich. The rich kids at school are jerks, and snobby. I’m glad we’re not rich if it means we’d have to be snobby.”

“Ha, well, I’m glad you feel that way. So, you feel better, bud?”

“Yeah. I mean, 11 isn’t that old, I guess. I mean, not as old as 45.”

“42, honey. Mommy’s 42.”

“You’re funny, Mom. I love you.”

“I love you too, bud. Now go get washed up. People are going to be here in a couple hours and we’ve got a house to clean.”

“Man, I miss Julie. She was good at helping you clean while I played games and stuff.”

“Well, you’re growin’ up, big man. 11 years old: the ripe old age for cleaning house.”

“Hardy har har, Mom. I hope I don’t get your sense of humor for my birthday.”

“You’d be so lucky!”

“Phone’s ringing! I got it!”

“No, bud. Get washed up. I’ve got it. Hey, Julie? Yeah, Simon’s gonna be so excited that you’re comin’ home for his birthday. See you soon. Love ya.”



Word Count: 390
© Copyright 2011 Than Pence (zhencoff at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1806967