When I went back to my apartment and opened the door, a smile as long as the George Washington Bridge broke out across my face. That’s because Papa Pete was there. He’s my grandfather, and he’s the kind of guy who would make even a warthog who just ate a lemon smile. That’s how much fun he is.
“Hey, Papa Pete,” I said. “I didn’t know you were coming for dinner.”
“I didn’t know, either,” he said, giving me a big bear hug. “Until I got a call from your mother to be here promptly at six o’clock. Seems she has some surprise up her sleeve.”
“Uh-oh,” I said. “I’ll bet she’s trying out a new recipe on us.”
“Your mother and her health-nut recipes are going to help me lose weight,” Papa Pete said. “Ever since she took over the Crunchy Pickle, it’s like she’s turned my deli into a tofu sandwich stand. What was wrong with corned beef on rye with mustard and a pickle?”
“She says fatty meats are hard on your heart,” I said.
“Well, tofu is hard on my taste buds,” Papa Pete answered with a laugh.
“You’re telling me,” I said. “Last week, she served flaming tofu beets. We had to put them out with a fire extinguisher.”
“Don’t tell her, but that’s the reason I ate before I came,” he whispered. “Tonight she’s probably going to serve fried carrot root. Even a starving rabbit wouldn’t eat that.”
Papa Pete laughed his butt off. I didn’t.
“Hey, Hankie, that was a joke. Why aren’t you laughing?”
“Sorry, Papa Pete. I was just thinking about Frankie. He’s got a major problem going on.”
“Did he hurt himself? Break a leg or something?”
“No, worse. His mom’s having a baby.”
Now it was Papa Pete who broke out into a smile as long as the George Washington Bridge.
“That’s wonderful news. A new baby, a new life in the world. It’s a blessing, Hankie.”
“Sure, unless you’re the one who has to give up your room so it can have a place to sleep.”
“Aw. That’s nothing compared to the joy a baby brings to a family. The whole house will be filled with the wonderful smells of baby powder and strained bananas in a jar.”
“Whoops, I didn’t even think of the smell part. I have to call Frankie to tell him to get a gas mask. At least that’ll help him survive until the baby is potty-trained.”
“I remember when your mother was born,” Papa Pete said. “Her sister, your aunt Maxine, spent the year trying to bite her every chance she got. She asked me if we could send her back to where she came from and get a puppy instead. And look at them now.”
“Papa Pete, they just had a huge fight because my mom borrowed Aunt Maxine’s black sweater and Aunt Maxine thought she saw gravy spots on it.”
“And you know this how?”
“Hey, I don’t live in a cave. I heard mom’s side of the phone conversation.”
“Well, things go on between brothers and sisters, but trust me, Hankie, there’s more in the positive column than there is in the negative column.”
“Wow, having a new baby around sounds like a math problem. Only you can’t erase it.”
That made Papa Pete laugh. And, I confess, me too. Sometimes I crack myself up, which is a pretty nice feeling.
We were still in the entryway when Emily poked her squinchy face in.
“Mom says you have to come to the table right NOW.”
“Oh really, did she say it just that way? Like a sourpuss platypus?”
“I don’t suppose you know that the Australian platypus swims with its eyes, ears, and nostrils shut—the way you walk around every day.”
“That’s so I don’t have to hear, see, or smell you,” I shot back.
“Whoa, kids,” Papa Pete said. “Be nice to each other. You’ll see. One day you’ll grow up to be best friends.”
“I’m sure that’s true, Papa Pete,” I said. “And that day will be six trillion billion gazillion years from now.”
I was satisfied with that comeback, and ready to face whatever flaming organic mishmash my mom was about to serve. I turned and headed to the dining room table, my head held high.
My dad was already seated, and right away, I noticed a funny look on his face. He looked really pleased with himself, like he had just polished off the New York Times crossword puzzle in ink in four minutes flat. That’s the only thing I know of that makes my dad smile like that. Or if he gets a seven-letter word in Scrabble that uses the letter X or J. Apparently, that gets him all excited, too.
Emily was sitting at her place, with Katherine the ugly iguana on her shoulder.
“Who invited lizard girl to dinner?” I asked.
“Mom says we’re having a family dinner,” Emily said, “and that includes the scaly members of the family, too.”
“Ohhhhh, that’s why you’re here.”
I sat down at my place, and right away our dog, Cheerio, sprinted across the apartment (at least as much as a dachshund can sprint on four of the shortest legs ever invented) and attached himself to my ankle. He hangs out there during meals, hoping for a shred of anything. He is the only one in the family who actually enjoys what my mom serves. He must have been born without taste buds.
“Okay, Mom, we’re all here,” I yelled to her in the kitchen.
“Coming,” she called.
All of a sudden, she backed through the swinging door from the kitchen into the dining area. She was carrying a tray of something, trying to balance it while she pushed the door open with her behind. I could see bits of colors, and it didn’t look like food, but I couldn’t tell exactly what it was. When she turned around, my eyes nearly popped out of my head.
There she was, with a huge smile on her face, holding a tray of…oh my gosh…party hats.
And if you looked really close, you could see words printed on the sides, just under the pompom. And those words said, “Congratulations, it’s a baby!”