“Flopping that thing around while I’m making waffles is neither romantic, nor sanitary,” she protested, opening the waffle iron and prying the pastry out. Marty sat down just as their youngest boy came bounding down the stairs.
Scott kissed his mother on the cheek. “I don’t have time for…wait…did you make waffles?”
Muriel handed the boy a plate with three heart-shaped waffles, each with half a strawberry on top, drizzled with chocolate syrup. “Uh… I can eat fast!” he said, then sat down at the table.
Muriel put another plate with three waffles, strawberries, and chocolate syrup in front of Marty, then kissed him on the top of his head. It wasn’t the kind of affection he’d been hoping for, but it would do. Besides, it came with food.
“Dad, why is there a ribbon on your willie?” Scott asked, shoving half a waffle into his mouth and looking down through the glass table. His phone was in one hand. Fortunately, Scott had the common sense not to take penis pics at the kitchen table. At least, Marty hoped he did. He shut his knees together and pulled the sides of his robe together.
“It’s a romantic gesture,” Marty explained. The day was not yet lost. Scott would be gone soon, and he and Muriel would have the house to themselves.
“Romantic? If I did that for my girlfriend, she’d fall off her chair laughing.”
“Well, your father tries, you have to give him that,” Muriel said. “After all, it is Valentine’s Day.”
“Valentine’s Day?” Scott asked, punching and swiping at his phone. “Oh no.” He shoved the last waffle into his mouth and pushed himself away from the table. “Now I’m not only late, I’m in trouble. Bye Mom. Dad.”
Scott grabbed his jacket and ran out the door, trying to get his arms in the sleeves as he was walking down the porch stairs. Muriel walked over to the door and shut it the rest of the way.
Marty let his robe fall open again. He grabbed the can of whipped cream, squirted a generous amount on his waffles, thought a minute, then squirted a perfect spiral right above the ribbon.
Muriel turned around, then did a double-take. She rolled her eyes and turned back to the waffle iron. “You should be careful. You know how Baxter is about whipped cream.”
Upon hearing his name, the dog’s ears perked up. Marty used his napkin to clean off the cream.
“I’m amazed we were able to raise such gentlemanly boys, with the example you set,” Muriel said.
The front door crashed open, and Scott ran through to the stairs. “Dad, do you have any more of that ribbon?” he yelled.
Muriel ignored the smug look he gave her. Scott was definitely his boy.
“In the middle drawer,” he shouted, getting up from the table. “And take the whipped cream too.”
This week, Wendy challenged us to write something with romance for WOW555.