I am a sweet potato.
“Yoooooook!” I listened as two little bare feet smacked against the hardwood floor. I watched A as he stumbled to my chair at the dinner table with nothing but a stained t-shirt and a pull-up on. He stood impatiently- feet dancing as he pointed toward the kitchen. Bigger footsteps approached behind A.
“Show everyone your potato.” B said with a smirk.
“Awwwww. He’s cute.” A said adoringly as he reached up to B on his tippy toes. A looked at the sweet potato, bruised and all, and gave it a gentle squeeze as he brought it close to his chest.
“What’s his name?” I asked.
He took a long look at the spud as if he could see right into its soul. A tapped his tiny finger on his chin as he searched for the perfect name.
“Sissa!” He declared. The room burst into laughter. It was me. I am Sissa. I am a sweet potato. A threw his head back and laughed along, placing his little hand over his mouth and closing his eyes to add the perfect amount of drama. I laughed too and told him I was honored.
We made eye contact… the starch and I. Two little sharpie drawn black eyes and a…
Suddenly little white teeth blurred my vision of the potato. He wouldn’t… He couldn’t. He did. I watched as his two front teeth dragged across the skin of the potato. A bit my freshly drawn smile, taking parts of it with him. He giggled, handed me the tater and ran. I looked down, absolutely bewildered. I didn’t know whether I should be flattered or terrified for my life. I am a sweet potato.
Part of Slice of Life by Two Writing Teachers March Slice a Day Challenge! I’m slicing every day this month. Thanks for stopping by.