When You Find Out the World Is Against You by Kelly Oxford

Author:Kelly Oxford
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
ISBN: 9780062322791
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-03-07T04:30:00+00:00

“MOM, I’M NOT GOING to school today,” Bea says at the breakfast table the day after the Chipotle episode, folding her arms across her chest, her curly hair wild from air-drying in her sleep.

“And I’m not eating breakfast. My teeth are weak.” She nods and pinches her eyes closed for effect.

James laughs. “Your teeth are fine. I’m forty and I have never had a cavity, you have the enamel DNA of a superhero. Eat your breakfast.”

Salinger walks in, opens a cupboard, grabs a bowl and the cereal, and helps herself to breakfast. Her teeth are not weak.

“I had Cheesecake Factory ranch sauce for the first time last night. It was so good.”

“Guess what, Sal? I’m not going to school today,” Bea half yells into the table.

Sal gives Bea the side-eye. “Interesting.”

“Oh, yes, you are,” James says, old-school dad in full force.

“Oh my God, Bea!” Henry is nine years old and stuffing his face full of waffles. I casually walk by and slice some bananas onto his plate of carbohydrates. If I ask, he’ll say no. If I just add them without asking, he will eat them. I think. As long as “there isn’t a lot of brown in the centers,” which could also be a basic motto for life.

Henry sighs, “Bea, you’re in preschool!” Henry is our only son and middle child, and if he is thinking it, you hear about it. He’s a superb storyteller, joke teller, an excellent mentor for many of my friends’ younger children. Impressed with Henry’s ability to make conversation and point out the obvious in things, a senior editor at GQ, only half kidding, told me that they have an internship waiting for Henry when he’s done with school. Henry’s response, “Oh, yeah. Great! No, wait, I am interning at Danny’s studio and producing that Ninja Roommate show with Anne Hathaway. Too bad. I guess maybe if that doesn’t work out?” Henry is part Ferris Bueller, part Max Fischer.

Now he moans, “I would kill to be in preschool! You don’t have to do anything! You draw and sing! Bea! It’s awesome. Stop it. I have to do sooooo much work.”

“What? You’re in the fourth grade, Henry. Shut up.” In chimes Salinger, the oldest Cheesecake Factory connoisseur.

Sal eats her cereal. “Mom, have you ever tried the ranch sauce at The Cheesecake Factory? I don’t know what they do to it. It’s so, so good.” I walk over to the fridge and pull the heavy stainless-steel door open. “Sal, I think if you make more than one reference to Cheesecake Factory ranch sauce before eight a.m., you’re officially American.” I pause, looking over the options for Bea. “Bea, you have to eat something for breakfast. What about an egg, that won’t hurt your teeth.”

“Ewwwwww.”

“What if you just have a banana?”

“I don’t. Want. Anything.”

“Bea, you have to eat something. Hey, hey, hey!” I catch Henry stepping on the garbage bin opener, about to slide his sliced banana into the bin.

“Eat that, Henry!”

“Gross.” He pulls the plate back and fakes retching onto it.

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