Chapter 85
“Morning, Grumpy Gus,” Paul said the next morning, carrying Michael before setting him down for breakfast and starting the coffee pot. Montana was gone for an early appointment and the girls had already left for school.
Brian grunted in response.
“Hung over yet?” Paul asked
"I'm not grumpy and hung over, you asshole,” Brian snapped. “And why is that fucking coffee pot taking so long?''
“Sorry, had to wipe the little prince’s ass and now have to feed him.”
"How hard is it to make coffee? I thought you were my and Montana’s slave boy. We could make you mow the lawn, you know!"
“I actually suck at lawn mowing, unfortunately for both of you,” Paul grinned, spooning cereal into Michael’s mouth. The baby made a face a few times, but ate with little fuss. “Anyway, your beloved coffee will be ready in a few minutes. There‘s some corn flakes and eggs out there too”
“Ahh, thank God.”
“And by the way, you are so done with the Corona after last night.”
“Huh? What? I know a little about the cops picking us up, but what the hell else did I do?”
Paul said nothing, but began shaking his head and snickering instead.
“Come on, PL, what happened?”
“You don’t remember Betsy?”
“Who?”
“The cow you molested.”
"What kind of girls was I flirting with last night?"
"Big chunky ones with huge tits.” Paul broke out laughing. He didn’t have the heart to tell Brian the actual story, though Mariah already knew and had laughed hysterically.
“Oh….okay.”
Dumb little shit, Paul thought. He thinks he was only chubby chasing last night.
“Anyway, think you can stay with Mikey for a few? I have to shave.”
“Better wash your pits too,” Brian joked, getting coffee. “I can smell you clear out here. It’s a wonder that poor kid hasn’t keeled over yet. Jesus, how does Montana sleep next to that reek every night?”
“They always say one knows they found their soul mate when they can stand the smell of your pits.”
“Montana must really be yours to tolerate that stink. Dude, seriously, you need a shower.”
“As do you, Drunky Boy. You smell like a stale brewery.”
“Think I can join you?”
“NO. You need to stay with Mikey.” Paul shot him a look.
“Okay, can’t say I never offered.”
“I’ll be back down in about twenty minutes. Just give Mikey the rest of his cereal and the bottle.”
Brian looked at the cereal jar after Paul had gone upstairs. “Farina? Damn, no wonder you were making weird faces while your papi was feeding you. You must go through torture with your parents. You got to eat and drink like a man, little dude. Here, try some of this.”
He gave Michael a mushy corn flake, followed by a tiny, cooled-offed amount of coffee. Michael smiled and smacked his lips, seeming to enjoy the new food and beverage.
“Yeah, that’s more like it, huh? Let’s try a little more before Papi gets back down here.” He then looked around. “Here, let’s try a little egg, too. I don’t know about you, Mikey, but we’re dumping this fucking farina shit before the king returns.”
Michael laughed, receiving more of the new, tasty items happily for a few more moments before Brian heard a noise upstairs.
“Looks like your papi is headed back down soon. Time for the bottle. Wouldn’t want us to get busted, would we?” Brian winked at the baby, who smiled back at him as he dumped the remaining farina into the wastebasket.
“Thought you fell in,” he commented when Paul came back down.
“Very funny. Your turn. I guess the kid finished eating?”
“You could say that. The bottle is sucked dry too. He’s all yours.”
“Ahh, good Mikey.” Paul picked him up as Brian headed to the shower.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” he asked at one point when Michael began to fuss a little. “It’s Papi. Surely I’m not that damn scary. Wait…you need to burp? You got gas, kiddo?”
Paul patted the baby’s back as he spoke soothingly to Michael. Soon he let out a loud burp, following by the unmistakable sound of a baby spitting up.
“What the hell….“ Paul began, observing the foreign objects on the burp cloth. “Jesus, Mikey, what did Brian give you? Some of that isn’t baby cereal; I know that for sure. I should kick his ass.”
“All done, dude, and I cleaned up the john for you,” Brian announced, drying his hair with a towel.
“Spanky, how did this baby get pieces of corn flakes and scrambled egg in him?”
“Thought he’d like a little variety. Dude, no offense, but farina isn’t where it’s at.”
“He’s not even six months old. What part of Mikey needing only baby food don’t you understand? You know Montana will have my ass in a sling if this kid gets sick because of your goofy ideas.”
“He liked black coffee with Splenda too,” Brian added with a grin.
“Oquela. You’re really enjoying this, aren’t you?”
“Little guy’s got to eat like a man sometime.”
“He has at least the next twenty one years, dumb ass. Seriously, it’s baby food till his mami or I say so. Got it?”
“Okay, fine. Little dude isn’t sick, is he?”
“No, I think he barfed up most of it.”
“Oh….good. Wouldn’t want you in trouble with Mami because of me.”
“Yes, I’ve been in enough trouble the last twenty-four hours because of you, thanks very much.”
“So I was really coming on to some chick called Betsy?”
Paul grinned again, trying to restrain himself from laughing. “To say the least, yes.”
“Damn. Mimi’s going to kill me when she gets wind of this.”
“I doubt that very much. She might be amused.”
“Yeah, after she kicks my ass to the curb.”
“Mimi? Nah, I think in this case, she might think you’ve suffered enough being locked up for a few hours last night and give you a pass.”
After she’s done laughing her own ass off, Paul thought silently.
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