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3. A Late Dinner

~Walter's Point of View~

I caught the hacky sack in my left hand, then lazily tossed it back up. I hadn't done a single thing besides that for the last twenty-eight minutes and forty-wait, forty-one seconds. Why did I have such a lack of motivation? It could be the fact that I'm a teenager. It could also be that my refrigerator was a good 50 yards and some odd stairs from my bed. Either one was a perfectly plausible reason.

There was a knock at my door, and a split second afterwards, I was hit in the face with a navy blue hacky sack. My eyes blinked shut from the impact.

"YEAH?" I yelled, sitting up to face the door.

My mom peeked around the door, "Honey, I've made cucumber salad and nachos." She traipsed over to my bed, "Come down soon, okay?" Then she leaned down and kissed my forehead before she turned and wobbled back out.

I swear we never had a normal meal after she got pregnant. It seemed that week we would be eating cucumbers every night.

I wandered over to my closet to put on a shirt. My hands landed on an Arizona Tee. What's so special about Arizona? It's both a brand of tea and a clothing line. And, don't forget the state itself. Why aren't the brands of coffee or purse designers called "Iowa" or "Delaware"? Just a thought.

At the table, it was extremely chaotic. My mother was busy serving everyone her "wonderful" cucumber salad. My dad was trying to pull apart my brothers, Marcus and Lucas, who couldn't agree on who had the biggest feet. Last of all, we had Angie's dog, Marley, who was licking my bare feet under the table. My sister went off to college two years previous, but left her fat basset hound here with us.

I shoveled a spoonful of the cucumber mush into my mouth. It wasn't too bad, but I preferred straight cucumbers. Or, we could just skip the whole cucumber stage and go directly to pickles (The dill kind, of course!).

The story of my beginning to like pickles is a rather fun one. The setting of our story begins on a hot spring day during my freshman year. I came inside from my backyard, feeling rather hungry. I wanted something cold because, like I said, it was quite hot out. I sauntered on over to the family refrigerator, and searched for that perfect cold food item. My eyes never fell on the grapes I had planned on getting, because they were staring at the party size pickle jar on the top shelf. Seeing as I was hungry and thirsty, Pickles seemed to satisfy both needs at once--and it was the closest thing in my reach-- I decided they were the better option. Ever since then, I have absolutely loved pickles.

Okay, so not so much of a fun story. I'm actually just lazy. But, hey, without being lazy I probably would have hated pickles for the rest of my life. Whaddayaknow? Laziness can be helpful!

Apparently, while I was having this little flashback, My mother had asked me a series of questions, (which I obviously hadn't answered yet, due to that) and my father was getting upset because I hadn't responded.

"Walter!?" My father nearly shouted once again.

"Yes?"

"Your mother wants to know what you did today. Did you find a job?" At the asking of that question, I remembered seeing a help wanted sign at one of the places I had stopped, not necessarily remembering which.

"Not yet. But I will soon. Don't you worry."

My father nodded at that. He took a bite of his cucumbers before saying, "As long as you get a job soon." The rest of the meal was silent. No one seemed to have anything else to say.

Afterwards, I went back up to my room. I looked at the clock as I jumped onto my bed. It was already nine-thirty. Following the move last week, my family got into the habit of eating late. This was by far the latest. I think it was because, between the baby and worrying about all of us, Mom hadn't had a chance to get back into a normal schedule.

Once I got a job, I figured it would really help out. Mom and Dad wouldn't have to pay for my school stuff, and I could pitch in some for food. Mom would actually have time to relax and get into the groove of things.

I rolled over and went to sleep.