Alcohol You Later (62)

“Great choice, kiddo.” I slap it on his arm, and before his feet have touched the ground, drama queen is screaming for hers.

“Oh, now you want me.” With a roll of my eyes, I take her from Raven. “Pick one.”

Ava’s choice is a skull with a snake weaving through it.

“Of course, she picked the ugliest one,” Raven says with a snort.

I finish applying her ink just as the zoo’s truck rolls up to the bus.

“Perfect timing,” I say, passing her back to Raven. “Who’s ready to go outside?”

“Outside! Outside!” they chant.

I scoop Alex up and the five of us head out to the lot, where they’re already unloading the animals: a miniature pony and cow, a goat, and a couple of bunnies are already set up in a temporary enclosure.

“Mine!” Ava screams when she sees the tiny white pony. “I ride?” She grabs Raven’s face in both hands, turning it so their eyes meet. “I ride damn pony?”

If her language shocks the handler, he doesn’t let it show. Maybe potty-mouthed toddlers are more common than I thought.

“She can ride him,” he says, handing Raven the end of his lead. “His name’s Maverick.”

While his sister mounts that horse like an equestrian, Alex clings to my shirt as if his life depends on it. He’s scared of everything. “You wanna pet the bunnies?”

“I not yike it.” He turns his head away, burying it in my neck.

After trying unsuccessfully to coerce him into taking a turn with the pony, a failed attempt at feeding the cow, and an absolute hysterical fit when I tried to enter the rabbit pen, we finally get him to walk the little goat around on a leash.

The entire band is out here, watching these kids, so I don’t think twice about taking my eyes off of Alex to snap a few pictures of my little cowgirl, who is having the time of her life.

But I should have. I definitely should have thought twice.

“Yuk,” little dude says, tugging on my jeans. “Heeya you go.” He extends his fist and, not fully paying attention, I open my hand. I realize that as my second mistake when something warm, mushy, and reeking plops into my palm. “It’s yuk.” Alex scrunches his nose. “Bleh.”

“Please tell me I’m not holding goat shit,” I say to no one in particular.

Anika cackles. “You are not holding goat shit…but you are holding a massive Maverick turd.”

“It’s shit,” Alex commiserates, rubbing his hand clean on the front of my pants.

“Why?” I turn my head up to the sky, gagging. “Why do you do these things, Alex?” With a shake of my head, I look down at the little boy who’s staring at his dirty hand like it somehow offends him.

Well, son, if you’d left it on the damn ground where it belongs…

“You cwean it?” His shimmering irises lock with mine. “You cwean my han, Dada?”

“Yeah,” I sigh. “Yeah, I’ll clean it.”

The whole way onto the bus, I lecture him about not touching poopoo. While I scrub our hands, swallowing my own vomit, I lecture some more. I strip us both of our soiled clothes and bring him into the shower with me, scrubbing him first and then myself, still lecturing.

“You have owie?” he asks, clearly not listening to a word I’ve been saying. I look down to find his finger extended toward my penis.

Fucking hell. I didn’t even think of how he might perceive my piercings, and I have no clue what to say.

“Uh, yeah,” I say, shutting off the water and quickly securing a towel around my waist.

I sit on the lid of the toilet, dry Alex off, and put him into a fresh diaper and clothes, while sending up a silent prayer that he’s already forgotten what he saw.

But his worried eyes assure me that isn’t the case. “Happen to you weewee?”

“Just an owie,” I say, stepping into a clean pair of jeans, careful to keep my business facing the opposite direction from him. “I’m okay.” I slip into a fresh tee and pause briefly at the mirror, running my fingers through my hair. Then I take his hand and lead him back out to enjoy the last thirty minutes with his goat, hoping like hell it distracts him.

When I set him down, I explain one more time that he is not to pick up any poop. Then, I breathe a huge sigh of relief when he takes the leash and sets off, talking baby babble nonsense to Billy the Kidd.

I don’t make the mistake of taking my eyes off of him this time. I see when he walks up to Korie, introducing her to his new friend, and I along with everyone else in the damn parking lot hear the concern in his voice when he announces, “Dada have owie on him weewee.”

“Nicholas!” my cousin screeches. “Come get your kid!”





For the past couple of weeks, Nick’s been all about doing things with the twins.

First, there was the petting zoo. The next day, he had the crew purchase a swing set that they now have to assemble and take apart every time we move, which is damn near daily. It’s just a simple metal one with two baby swings and a slide, but they are loving it. He rented out the aquarium when we were in Tulsa, and today, we’re in Nashville and taking the kids to spend the morning at a place filled with inflatable bouncy houses.

These babies are living their best lives, and after all that they’ve been through, they deserve it.