Bad Seed

“If you’re a good girl, we’ll get you some, yes.”

“And chips?”

“You can have ice cream or chips, but not both.”

“Why?” she asked.

“Because you’ll get a tummy ache.”

“But you rub tummies,” she said.

“Only yours, and only when it hurts. But you don’t want it to hurt, do you?”

“Will you rub my tummy anyway?”

“How about I scratch your back?” I asked. “Like I do whenever you go to sleep?”

“That’s sleepy scratch. I’m not sleepy.”

“You’re not, huh?” I asked, grinning. “Well, what about this. If you’re good at the grocery store, I’ll rub your belly while we’re standing in line waiting to check out.”

“But ice cream?” she asked.

“You just want everything, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

Chuckling, I placed her in the grocery cart. We needed to stock up on everything. Toilet paper, toothpaste, diapers and wipes. We needed fresh vegetables to go with the deer I’d shot last week, and I was out of all the spices I used for my chili. I walked up and down the aisles as I grabbed things, and Lanie giggled as she tossed random boxes of food into the cart. Crackers and dental floss. Cereal I knew she’d never eat and dried cranberries. She tossed them in and giggled profusely like she was getting away with something she knew she wasn’t supposed to be doing.

“Oh, you think that’s funny, huh?”

I plucked her from the cart and started blowing raspberries into her stomach. She squealed with delight and kicked her legs, begging me to stop as I tickled her underneath her arms. She was giggling and panting for breath, trying to wiggle out of my grasp as I planted my lips on her cheek.

“Beard,” she said breathlessly. “Beard tickles.”

I set her back into the cart and continued up and down the aisles. Loaves of bread and peanut butter made it in as well as gallons of milk and containers of juice. I grabbed fresh and frozen vegetables for quick lunches and dinners, then I threw in a few snacks I knew Lanie loved.

She clapped her hands in delight when she saw them being tossed into the cart.

“Now, what are we missing?” I asked.

“Ice cream!” Lanie said.

“That depends. Have you been a good girl?”

“Uh huh.”

“A really good girl?” I asked.

“Yes, Uncle Bwian!”

“A really, really, really good—”

“Chocolate, please?”

I laughed at her insistence before I pushed the cart down the ice cream aisle. I grabbed a pint of her favorite chocolate ice cream and tossed it into the cart, then I made my way to the cash register. Just like I’d promised, I rubbed Lanie’s stomach while we waited. Her eyes were already beginning to droop shut with exhaustion as her nap time approached, and I shook my head as she laid her forehead against my chest.

She looked so peaceful whenever she was sleeping. A far cry from the shrieking, crying child I’d inherited a year ago.