[MM] the pickles are staring at me.
[Ryan im-gonnabrood used with permission.]
"The pickles are staring at me."
"No, they aren't, Seth," Ryan replied, not looking up from the morning paper. It surprised Seth that Ryan took the time to read it. He didn't exactly know why it surprised him. Ryan was quite intelligent and it wasn't as if Seth despised having conversation with the guy. Some days, Ryan was the only person he'd talk to.
"They are, and they're mocking me." Seth hid his head behind the box of cereal, peeking out only to pull it back again. His eyes met table as he continued. "And that bagel sitting over there that my mom conveniently forgot to cut? That's mocking me too."
"The food is not mocking you, Seth," Ryan said, this time looking up and taking a sip of his coffee. Seth stuck his head out from behind the cereal box before making a face. "You said this wasn't going to bother you. You said, 'Yes, Ryan. I can sit at the breakfast table with you on Yom Kippur while you eat.' You even said you have free will. Loudly."
Seth pursed his lips, shaking his head, before averting his gaze once again.
"You do this every Yom Kippur, Seth," Ryan said, returning his attention back to his paper.
"Does what," Sandy asked, heading into the kitchen. "What does Seth do?"
Ryan looked up again, an honest to God amused look on his face before turning to Sandy. "He claims that all food and drink he comes into contact with mock him and goad him. His words, not mine," Ryan added, looking back at Seth.
"Well, son." Sandy glanced at his watch. "Only nine more hours until sundown." And with that, Sandy left the kitchen empty handed. After all, it was Yom Kippur.
"But nine hours is forever in teenager!" Seth called out.
"Did you actually just call yourself a teenager," Ryan asked.
"Well, we are Ryan. We're sixteen which would make us teenagers."
A beat went by without a word being said.
"The pickles are staring at you, Seth," Ryan exclaimed, causing the other boy to duck down his head again.
"That is not funny!" Seth replied. Ryan found it absolutely hilarious.
"The pickles are staring at me."
"No, they aren't, Seth," Ryan replied, not looking up from the morning paper. It surprised Seth that Ryan took the time to read it. He didn't exactly know why it surprised him. Ryan was quite intelligent and it wasn't as if Seth despised having conversation with the guy. Some days, Ryan was the only person he'd talk to.
"They are, and they're mocking me." Seth hid his head behind the box of cereal, peeking out only to pull it back again. His eyes met table as he continued. "And that bagel sitting over there that my mom conveniently forgot to cut? That's mocking me too."
"The food is not mocking you, Seth," Ryan said, this time looking up and taking a sip of his coffee. Seth stuck his head out from behind the cereal box before making a face. "You said this wasn't going to bother you. You said, 'Yes, Ryan. I can sit at the breakfast table with you on Yom Kippur while you eat.' You even said you have free will. Loudly."
Seth pursed his lips, shaking his head, before averting his gaze once again.
"You do this every Yom Kippur, Seth," Ryan said, returning his attention back to his paper.
"Does what," Sandy asked, heading into the kitchen. "What does Seth do?"
Ryan looked up again, an honest to God amused look on his face before turning to Sandy. "He claims that all food and drink he comes into contact with mock him and goad him. His words, not mine," Ryan added, looking back at Seth.
"Well, son." Sandy glanced at his watch. "Only nine more hours until sundown." And with that, Sandy left the kitchen empty handed. After all, it was Yom Kippur.
"But nine hours is forever in teenager!" Seth called out.
"Did you actually just call yourself a teenager," Ryan asked.
"Well, we are Ryan. We're sixteen which would make us teenagers."
A beat went by without a word being said.
"The pickles are staring at you, Seth," Ryan exclaimed, causing the other boy to duck down his head again.
"That is not funny!" Seth replied. Ryan found it absolutely hilarious.