My Poor Spud Bud (Or More Appropriately: The Day I learned Sex was Bad)

This was something I wrote for a contest. It's the first time I've written something humorous, or attempted to.

 

Mom was stirring something, appropriately placed in front of the stove.  I think it was spaghetti.  She was a little busy with some news program blaring over the small TV on the green marble counter.  Dad was still not home from work. My older sister, Deidre sat at the desk in our den working on her homework. I was bored.

“Mom,” I tugged on her jeans, “will you play Barbies with me?”  I tugged some more.

“What now?  No, mommy’s too busy cooking dinner.  Go ask your sister to play.”

My sister?  That was a joke right?  Ever since she turned thirteen I disappeared.  Now it was talking on the phone to boys and watching shows on TV that she turned off when I came in the room.  I couldn’t ask her, it would only make her mad.  I continued with mom, she usually gave in.

“Mom, I want to play. Play with me. Please.”  I added the please because I heard others use it and it usually got them what they wanted.

“Not right now.”  She scooted me out of the kitchen and into the living room where she turned on Clifford. “Now just sit down and watch this. It’ll help you not be bored.” I fell back onto the chocolate suede couch, pouting.  I usually enjoyed watching it, but tonight I didn’t want to watch TV.  After mom had returned to the kitchen, I slid off the couch and wandered down the hall to the den.  It was obvious mom was going to be a no go.  At least if I went and bugged Deidre someone would pay attention to me.

        I entered the dim-lit room where my father spent most of his time, besides work, and walked up beside the large cherry-wood desk.  I didn’t say anything, just watched. Deidre ignored me for a while; she was probably waiting for me to talk. I didn’t. She glanced at me once then returned to her studies with a loud huff.  I remained silent, standing there watching her.

        “What do you want?”  She had turned the chair in annoyance to face me.  I looked at her for a second.

        “I want to play.”  She tilted her head to the side with another huff and a not nice look, then shook her head no.

“I’m not going to play with you. I don’t play baby games.”  She said as she turned the chair back to the desk.  I was stung.  Baby games?  What was a baby game?  I wasn’t a baby anymore, not since three years ago when I started school.  That meant I didn’t do baby things anymore.  I’d show her.  But what could I do that would make her want to play?

I left the den a little sad, but thoughtful.  There had to be a something I liked to play that Deidre would play with me.  I sat back on the couch paying little attention to large red blob running around the TV screen.  I continued to think.  What did my sister like?  Then it hit me.  I knew something I could do that she might want to play.  But first I needed a boy.

Well, only being eight, I didn’t know any boys other than the ones I went to school with and those boys were icky and mean. They chased all the girls at recess and sometimes we fell and got our lovely dresses dirty.  Maybe I could use a boy doll! That was brilliant, only I had no boy dolls.  Daddy sad I didn’t need any, they were only trouble. He was always saying weird things like that.  Now what was I going to do?  I slid back off the couch and went to my room. There had to be something there that I could use.

I pushed open my heavy metal closet doors, grunting in frustration.  I started to pull out my toys.  I found a teddy bear, but I didn’t think he would work.  Deidre hadn’t had anything stuffed in her room for a couple years.  I dug around, but could only find Barbies and dolls.  I was going to give up.  That’s when I saw it.  It was perfect. Mr. Potato Head!  Of course!  He was a boy, it was in his name after all.

I had my boy.  Now I needed a girl doll.  I searched through my closet some more and found my cutest baby doll. Now that I had the dolls I needed, I had to find something that I could do with them.  Something that wasn’t a baby game.

I remembered something I saw on TV - something I think I wasn’t supposed to see - that my mom and Deidre were watching.  As soon as they saw me they turned it off and my sister got all upset. I felt bad so I left the room.

I needed something I could use for a hot pool.  A pot!!  I could find one in the kitchen under the sink if I could get passed mom.  I quietly made my way across the house to the kitchen.  Mom was still making dinner and watching the TV.  I opened the cabinet and looked around for the perfect size.  I grabbed one, which happened to be the closest pot to me.  As I was pulling it out, the end caught the cabinet with a “ding”.  I stopped, afraid my mother would catch me.  She didn’t even notice.  I grabbed the pot and took off, back into my room.  Now to get my sisters attention.

I wandered back in to the study.  Deidre was not sitting at the desk. I waited a minute then decided she must’ve went to the bathroom.  No matter.  Now what could I do so that she would come find me?  I hopped up on the desk chair.  Her papers were spread out on the desk along with a couple books.  I grabbed the closest book and took off, but I couldn’t go very quickly like I hoped because the book was so heavy.  I took it back to my room.  Now that I had all the stuff I needed it was time to set up and wait.

I took the pot into the bathroom and filled it with warm water.  I didn’t fill it up all the way so that it wouldn’t splash on the floor as I carried back to my room.  Once back in my room I set it on the floor.  Then I put Mr. Potato in the pot and began to undress my doll.  After she was completely naked I put her in the water also.  It was just as I had seen on the TV.  The guy and girl were sitting in the hot pool together, naked.  I don’t know why they were naked but that’s how it was.

Now I was playing a big girl game.  If my sister liked to watch it on TV then it must be a big girl game and she would want to play with me.  I sat there, Mr. Potato Head and dolly sat there in there pool, but I wasn’t having any fun.  I began to think my “baby” games were better than this.  That’s when I remembered that the people on the TV had been doing more than sitting there.  The girl was sitting on the boy and they were kissing, like mommy and daddy.

I took my doll and was trying to put her on Mr. Potato Head.  It was really difficult.

“What are you doing?!” A gruff angry voice came from behind me.  It scared me and I flinched, dropping dolly into the water and splashing it onto the floor. “What is going on here?”

“I was playing a big girl game.” My voice was quiet and shook with sadness.  “I wanted Deidre to play with me.”  Daddy rushed out the door and I heard him call for Deidre.  I was so confused.  What did I do?

I walked out of the room and found daddy in the kitchen with mommy.  He was whispering in a growling voice.  He still sounded angry. I hated them fighting, which was often. Daddy usually made mommy cry. She would just stand there crying while he yelled at her more. I always wanted to run in and tell him to stop making mommy cry. But I was always too scared.  Mommy saw me in the door and stopped daddy.  “I’ll talk to her.”  She said.  Mommy took my hand and we walked to the living room where we sat down. She turned the TV off.

“What happened?  What did I do?”  Mommy just smiled.

“Well hun, what were you playing?”

“I was playing a big girl game that I saw on TV.”

“When did you see this ‘game’?”

“You and Deidre were watching it and then you turned it off when I came in the room.  Did I do something wrong?”

“No sweetie.  Just lets not play those games anymore, ok?”

“Why not?  Deidre won’t play with me if I play baby games.”

“You don’t play baby games.  Your sister only said that because she was annoyed.  It’s ok.  Just go back and play Barbies.”  Mommy got up and went back towards the kitchen.

“Ok.”  I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I felt weird.  I didn’t understand why daddy was so upset.  I walked back to the kitchen so I could apologize to daddy for being bad and I saw him with my Mr. Potato Head.  He was waving it around angrily.

“See, I knew this would happen.  That girl shouldn’t have any dolls like this! Boys only lead to trouble.”  He threw him in the garbage can.

“Honey, she’s just a child. She didn’t know what she was doing. You’re overreacting.” My mother had such a soft light voice the times she tried to make daddy listen.  

“Overreacting? You tell me that when she’s pregnant in a couple years.” Mom sighed, her shoulders dropped and she looked down away from daddy. She seemed so sad.

I ran over to the garbage can to get Mr. Potato Head back. “No, daddy! I’m sorry.  Don’t throw Mr. Potato Head away!”  I picked up the dirty toy and hugged him.  Daddy grabbed him from my arms and went towards the patio.  I ran behind him crying for him to let Mr. Potato Head go.  But he didn’t listen.  On the patio he went to his toolbox and got out his hammer.

In a few short hits Mr. Potato Head was in pieces.  “Maybe this will teach you! These things are not for girls your age!” He said as he handed me the pieces and went back inside, leaving me to grieve over my broken toy.  I had no idea what he said; all I knew is that whatever it meant must be bad if it got my favorite toy broken. 

Reviews

[Sara Henry Heistand]

This would be interesting if this is an actual anecdote... Because it eerily fits the criteria so well. :P The dialogue was believable fo'sho and the situation was pretty funny. The voice was that of the syntax of a child which was interesting. However, the way the father acts is pretty much borderline...manic and unrealistic unless the family is deeply religious or he's haboring some ancient feelings of abuse (mayhap?) or something of that sort. Maybe you should give more insight on this? It was pretty funny until the ending and then I just wanted to smack that dad in the mouth for acting that way. Yikes! This was a pretty good read though. :D

[{Angel Redd}[Formerly A..]

This is pretty funny, but i think it would make for better reading if you structured your sentences a little differently, and some of the word choices are kid of vague.
like:

I couldn�t ask her it would only make her mad. So I continued with mom, she usually gave in

It would have a better flow if it were:
I couldn't ask her, because it would only make her mad. So i persisted; my mother usually gave in.

Little things like that can help the story flow better.

Other than that, good job.