Such a pterodactyl

“Dad! Maisy won’t share!”

“Eddie, you’ve got your own.” Simon pointed out.

“I’ve finished it.”

“So you have. That’s not Maisy’s fault.”

“But hers is pineapple.”

“Then you should have ordered the same.”

“But I didn’t want to.”

“And?”

Neither of the children replied.

“Yours looked nice Eddie. Cranberry Crush, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, but…”

“Oh Dad,” Maisy piped up. “You’re such a pterodactyl.”

“What?” Simon asked, face screwed up.

“It’s a dinosaur,” Eddie explained.

“I know,” Simon replied. “But I don’t…”

“Never mind, Dad,” Eddie continued looking longingly in the direction of his sister’s dessert.

“OK,” Eddie said when Maisy had finished. “Are we done now?”

With her lips blue from the pineapple and damson ice cream, Simon smiled at his daughter.

“Something else?”

Maisy shook her head.

“Really? You two usually work backwards; dessert, main, starters. Not hungry?”

Maisy shrugged her shoulders.

Eddie grabbed a menu.

“And you Eddie?”

Eddie nodded enthusiastically but stared at his sister’s blue lips. “Anything blue.”

Simon laughed, but before anyone said anything else, the fire alarm went off.

“Shouldn’t we evacuate?” Eddie said, proud of his knowledge of the word.

“I’m sure it’s only a drill or someone’s burning the toast. Can you smell smoke?”

The children shook their heads.

“Well, then. Go on, have whatever you fancy.”

***

Photography courtesy of morguefile.com.

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