Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70546 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 353(@200wpm)___ 282(@250wpm)___ 235(@300wpm)
“The eggs! We’re eating unhatched brethren.”
“I don’t have a rooster,” Thaddius says calmly.
“How do you get—oh.” I really should have just stayed silent. It’s sometimes better to say nothing at all than to show how painfully little you know about farming.
“If there’s no rooster, those eggs would never hatch. They lay eggs all the same.”
“Well, still!” Wanda huffs. “It’s rude.” She scowls at the bird. “And no one asked you in here for breakfast, missy. All the same…” She pats her bob, smoothing down a few strands. “I’m sorry about the travesty.”
“We’ve scarred it for life,” Elmira agrees. She covers her plate with her hands. “Quick. Turn the poor bird around.” Thaddius turns and lets the chicken go inside the house. It walks around, cooing and clucking. “What do you think you’re doing?” Elmira screams shrilly. “Outside!” She shoots up from the table, scoops the bird, puts it on the sill, and shoves it in the bottom. “Shoo! Outside, you marauder. Outside, I say!”
Then she walks over and sits back down with more dignity than I ever would have been able to muster. Thaddius looks doubtful about rejoining the table for breakfast. I’m not sure if I can ever look at eggs the same way again without thinking of the term chicken brethren.
“We’re not finished talking,” Wanda points out as she pats his empty chair. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get this settled.”
This time, at the loud braying noise that comes from right behind me, I do leap out of my seat and end up under the table with my hands over my head in the typical disaster pose.
“Herman Merman,” I hear Thaddius say affectionately. “What did I tell you about breaking out of your pen and sticking your head in the window? You’ll frighten the guests. That’s what I always say.” Never mind that he never actually has guests and sounds way too amused to be legitimately sorry.
“Your donkey is loose!” Wanda sounds about two seconds away from having a heart attack.
I crawl out from under the table in time to see her fanning herself wildly. I think breakfast is pretty much shot, but maybe that’s not such a bad thing. They were heading in the direction of trying to force us to honor that silly marriage contract. Maybe now Thaddius will see why it’s so important that we have an anti-contract. A—you can’t make us get married even if you threaten us with wedgies or lawyers or lawyers who give good wedgies—tight as heck style, iron-clad piece of paper that guarantees our freedom.
Thaddius is at the window on the other side of the room, patting the donkey’s head. I didn’t realize the house was so low. Either that or that donkey is pretty freaking tall.
“Good boy,” he says. Pat, pat, pat. “What a smart donkey. Always getting loose and coming to the house for pets. Hey? Herman Merman? So handsome. What a handsome donkey. Isn’t he handsome, Mom?”
“He’s full of fleas,” Wanda sniffs. “Sit back down. We’re going to finish this business even if it kills us.”
Thaddius just keeps petting his donkey.
Good god that sounds dirty.
Pat, pat, pat. “Yeah…I don’t think so.”
That does it. That’s what finally shatters his mom’s patience. She shoots up from the table and grabs her purse. She storms over and shakes her finger in his face. “I have nothing to threaten you with that you’re going to listen to because we love you too much, but….” She stops and suddenly gets a devilish look on her face. It’s absolutely demonical, and I can practically hear the air sizzling as it gets hotter and hotter in here.
Thaddius sees it. He looks instantly panicked even though he’s still standing in place, holding his ground, and still petting the darned donkey on the head. “Don’t. Don’t you even suggest it. Don’t you even go there.”
“I’m going there. I’m going there right now. Your grandma and I will personally come out here every single day if you aren’t married within the week. Every. Single. Day. For the rest of…forever. Don’t think about trying to escape us. It’s not possible. We’ll move hell and high water to buy the land next to yours. Then we’ll all move out here and live off the grid. Or whatever it is you’re doing. We’ll farm chickens and get donkeys. I’ll raise a donkey farm and make my own donkey cheese. And you’ll see me every single day because that’s what families do. They love each other and check in with each other. A wholeeeee lot.”
“That’s it! Out!’ A snap of the fingers in his mom’s face is the worst Thaddius can muster. Alright, so maybe he’s holding back just a smidge. But whatever it is, he is getting awfully red.
She shakes a finger right back at him. It’s clear he’s no match in the annoyed and slightly peeved-off finger-shaking game. “One week, Thaddius. One week or else.”