My daddy the bear

Chapter 5: Pull off the baby tooth!

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Does not it seem fatal when, when one's a pup, the first baby tooth looses up and falls? Sometimes this makes one think that one chewed on something really hard and it shattered the tooth's root. Sometimes this makes one think that for ignoring those annoying announcements about tooth pastes, the tooth got rotten for not having the prompt care: you must brush your upper teeth downward, you must brush your lower teeth upward and you must brush your back teeth drawing circles. Besides, people should use mouthwash if they want to show off a stunning, white smile. That's what they always announce at TV so they can sell more and more tooth pastes, isn't it? Then, for conclusion, if we get down to any special floss, we'll see another potato potato.

   "So that means we shouldn't buy tooth paste?" Springtrap asked in absolute awe.

   Bonnie waited until he finished chewing the bite he had of the sandwich he made himself. Springtrap just stared at him while waiting inpatient.

   "I saw that on YouTube. Impressive, right, Springtrap?"

   "Absolutely!" he replied joyfully. "Then I'm going to tell Mom that we should stop buying that The Avengers tooth paste."

   Bonnie chuckled by watching Springtrap rejoicing. Deep down, Bonnie himself was rejoicing too, because he always liked how someone gave him the satisfaction of being right, even if this meant to persuade his kinder friend about the ebbs and flows of underestimating any tooth paste.

   In a matter of minutes, they both went back to their classroom along all of their classmates. If Bonnie's memory did not deceive him, today their assignment was to draw themselves, and then draw their mother or father, or adult in charge. Bonnie, with no hesitation, took out the pencils Chyna gave to him, whipped out a piece of paper from his gigantic purple folder and starting tracing the same big, brown, bear-like body he always liked.

   Springtrap envied how natural Bonnie was on drawing, regardless of holding any pencil from the end with the eraser. How does he manage to draw so well?

   Chyna wondered the same when she entered Frederick's bedroom and found many of Bonnie's drawings; they were piled up on some drawer next to that mountain made out of little, chocolate treats wrappers that Frederick was still bunching up. Chyna felt sort of disgusted, but, as a matter of fact, she got mad above all. She went to the living room, where she found Frederick sitting on what always was his side of the couch; he was watching a Mexican soap opera.

   "Hey, when do you think you're gonna clean up that room? Bonnie sleeps in there too, in case you've forgotten."

   Frederick did not care about him sleeping there; after all he had gotten his very own bed. So what was the big deal in leaving some trash on top of it? It was his drawer! And if that bugged him that much, then who was stopping him from cleaning it up?

   "If it's such a big deal for him, then he can take it out; he's already old enough to know how to do it, no?" And then he started eating back the sweet bread he was holding.

   "Huh! Then as soon as he needs to buy supplies for school, what's the big deal if he has to work for it? No, I know: if he has trouble with learning at school then what's the big deal in looking for help by his lonesome, right? 'Cause clearly no one around here is gonna be there for him."

   Frederick already knew he was going to be told off, so he just shrugged it off with no caring at all. It was more interesting to see María José about to talk to his son about his pregnant girlfriend; now those were the gossips.