I was on the couch when Dad asked me how I was doing. I pointed at him and nodded. He sat down next to me, leaned forward, turned to me and got a serious look on his face. He said, "Ben, you have to move out." I just grabbed my toes and poked each one with my index. Dad wasn't smiling at all.
"Listen, we'll help you get set up. We'll get you on your feet." I pulled at my big toe. I repeated the gesture. And then a third time. "Don't give me the silent treatment, Ben." I grinned at him, squinting my eyes.
"I'll tell you what. We'll all move out. Together. But only for a little while. You will have to move out eventually. Happy? Did you get what you wanted?" I clapped my hands. "Good. I guess we could do with more space. You have toys everywhere." I sighed and pointed at my milk on the coffee table before us. "Dah?" I said. He reached over and handed me my sippy cup.
He sat all the way back in the couch. "I can't believe how fast it's gone by already, Benjamin. And, now, it looks like you're going to have a sister." I tipped my head back and sipped noisily at my milk, cold and refreshing, like milk should be.