“I can’t even finish it.”
“But like it’s only a Mama Burger, dad, it’s not even the Papa Burger. I’m only like not even 9 and I’m having the Teen Burger. I mean you know, look at this thing. It’s huge.”
In fact the Teen burger is the biggest of the three. The Mama version is the skimpiest.
“Dad, it’s like this, sometimes I have so many appetites that I could eat a whole Family of Burgers.”
My “appetites” are waning. I eat less, drink nothing and actually find myself not questing for anything, for days on end.
Except for sex, which has gotten better with time. And my enjoyment of it even more so. It is now pleasure without ego or necessity.
“Dad, how come teenagers eat more and like they’re not adults and can’t even do adult things? It’s weird.”
“Kids and teenagers are growing, that’s why you sometimes eat like a hog and sometimes like a canary. You’re growing in spurts. But it takes a longer time for the brain to be wired to be adult.”
And it doesn’t ever happen for a whole lot of people I know. Adults in appearance only.
“But dad, when I’m like you know 18 or 19, will I be an adult?”
“But doesn’t that mean that I have to like move away from you?”
“Nope. We can live together for as long as we want to.”
For better or for worse, till death do us part.
“Even if I like have a girlfriend and we you know, sleep together?”
“And what if I have a girlfriend?”
Noah chews on his Teen Burger, noisily.
“Sweet, we could like all four live together.”
He goes wide-eyed.
“Six? How many girlfriends do you want, dad?.
“No. Four humans, a cat and a fish.”
He stares down a pickle in his burger. Plucks it out and flings on the wrapper with an air of disdain.
“Seven then, dad. Yeah, because it’s like this. When I’m old enough to take care of him and pay for his food and everything else, I want a dog, a big dog, like you know a Husky.”
“Sure if I never once need to pick up its turds.”
“If you promise.”
He does a happy shoulder dance.
Who ever said I didn’t believe in love ever-after.