Page 88 of Honey's Special Roux

“Can we wear the same colors?”

“You want to be my twin?”

“Yes!”

“Let’s see if we can make it happen.”

We walked into his closet, and I searched his array of clothes to see if he had black joggers, a gray shirt, and white Forces. I spotted the Forces right away. They were clean for a kid’s shoe.That’s my boy.

The pants were easy to spot too. The difficult task was finding the right gray shirt. All his child sized shirts had printed designs on them. The closest we got was a standard gray shirt with a spiderman logo on it. The red spider was hard. I couldn’t even lie.

We got him dressed, and I brushed his hair. He had a nice line up.

“I need a chain like yours,” Quis commented as he pointed to the two chains around my neck.

“Here. I’ll let you borrow one of mine until we can get you one of your own. Okay?”

“Yay!” He jumped up and down. I took the shorter chain off and slid it over his head. He showed all his baby teeth.

“Let’s head out to the living room. Your mom should be waiting.”

“Mommy!” He ran out of the room, and I followed a few strides behind him. In the living room, Honey gave him a tight hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“You look so handsome, stinkabutt.”

“I look like Mr. Marquise.” He spun around.

Honey took in both of our appearances, and her bottom lip poked out. “Stop… my heart!”

“Don’t you start that. Let’s go before you get all emotional.”

“Let me take a picture at least.”

“C’mon, Quis.”

We stood together and posed. Quis tossed up a peace sign, while I tucked my hands in my pocket.

“Aht. Smile, Q.”

“Real gangsters don’t smile,” I replied.

“Yeah, Mommy. Real gang-tars don’t smile.” Quis agreed.

I laughed. “Let her know.”

Honey shook her head. “Fun’s over. Get out of here.”

“Don’t be like that.”

Honey grabbed her purse and went to the front door. Quis and I laughed as we followed her out the door.

* * *

“Baby, you’re going to be sticky.” Honey reached for a napkin, but I took it before she did.

“I got it.” I grabbed the napkin and wiped Quis’s hands and face before I gave him a clean fork to try again. He’d gotten two pancakes, a waffle, and a ham and bacon omelet—plus a side of seasonal fruit. How one kid could eat so much was beyond me.

Honey had ordered a breakfast platter of biscuits, hashed browns, bacon, and scrambled eggs. I got the Southern style shrimp and grits with a side of bacon and eggs. We all ate in a comfortable silence for a while.

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