Snack on a Sample

"Untitled"

Forthcoming from Nick Kotecki

***

We revert our speech when we speak to Grandpa.

“All – you – have – to – do – is: press the button.”

“Which button.”

“The defrost button, Grandpa.”

We talk to him as if he were a puppy dog or a kitten, the same way we address our infants, our babies, our toddlers if we have them. We tighten the valves and strings of our vocal cords and inhale extra helium from the air, so that when we speak all of our utterances sound like questions.

“You see, Grandpa, when you take the corn out of the freezer you need to defrost it first.”

“I did.”

“Not on the counter, in the microwave.”

“It was delicious.”

“Well, don't you think it would taste better warm and with some butter maybe?”

Another thing: rarely do we ask Grandpa questions. Our questions are actually little twists of the arm, they are mandated suggestions. We all know the rules. Grandpa is just learning. We are his teachers.

When we do ask Grandpa questions, we don't ask him anything.

“Is Grandpa cold?”

“Grandpa's hands feel like ice.”

“I'm fine.”

“Can you get Grandpa's sweater for me?”

“The sun is gorgeous. Great.”

“Does Grandpa want to go inside?”

We ask those around Grandpa what he needs. Grandpa doesn't know about his sugar intake or his constipation or his sensitive kidneys. We know it for him.

“Does Grandpa want more potatoes?”

“Broccoli. Cheese. I want that.”

“Pass me the bowl of potatoes for Grandpa.”

Grandpa always scrapes his plate clean. He always wears the bib we have suggested for him to wear at family dinners. The bibs are not plain white. They are ornate, often matching the color of the dinner's main entree.

“The cheese is delicious.”

We always wipe Grandpa's face with his bib.