An Eye for Art

Chapter Seven

I waddled to the end of the couch with waving arms. My father was laying down and reading with his head on the armrest. Relentless giggles came from my mouth as I hid behind him and covered his eyes. Chuckling, my father put the book on his lap and swallowed my tiny hands in his.

"Who is this?" he joked. I tried my best to stay quiet, but the giggles slipped through my lips. My father let go of my hands and sat up, turning around to face the culprit. My hands jerked to cover my mouth. Maybe, just maybe, if I could stop myself from laughing he wouldn't know I did it. We stared at each other. My eyes were wide, and his face was calm and placid.

"Was it you?" he investigated. My smile was an impenetrable force; I struggled to keep a straight face. I shook my head slowly. My father turned his head toward the table and made occasional glances at me.

"Was it Mr. Stuffings?" he questioned as he pointed to my stuffed rabbit. Yes! This was my way out! I nodded my head rapidly. A moment of silence reigned over us before my father lunged his arms at Mr. Stuffings and started beating him up.

"Ahh!" I yelled, "No no no no no no no!" I climbed onto the couch to rescue Mr. Stuffings.

"What? I thought he did it," he said as he gave Mr. Stuffings his punishment.

"No no no no no." My father stopped and raised his eyebrow suspiciously

"So, Mr. Stuffings isn't the one at fault here, is he?" I sheepishly looked around as I shook my head. Setting Mr. Stuffings down, my father took me into his arms, smiling.

"It was you, wasn't it?" I wrapped my arms around his neck and leaned my head on his shoulder.

"Yeah," I said."

"You're one goofy child, you know that?" he chuckled, swaying with me in his arms.

"Yeah."

~~~~~~

We trudged through the sands of Egypt. There were stone buildings and mounds of sand as far as the eye could see. I followed my father around as he investigated different ruins, buildings, and walls in this desolate place. With a crew of five others, we had tents and gear set up for our 10-day excavation.

My father was an archaeologist, and he brought me with him whenever he left for long trips. My mom stayed at the house due to her stationary job, but she didn't mind us being gone because his trips occur often. In fact, my father typically worked at a laboratory back home. He'd bring me in once in a while to show me all the cool artifacts they sent to him to clean and put on record. Sometimes, he even let me clean a few, but that's a secret we kept to ourselves.

Heading back to the tents, we got situated so we could all eat together. Out here, we weren't able to have luxurious meals. They had coolers for water and MRE's for our breakfast, lunch, and dinner; we ate like the military. While they weren't the best things I've ever eaten, they weren't that bad. We were six days into our excavation, and today I had an MRE with chili and beans and a marble cake. The marble cake was my favorite part.

"Do you guys wanna play UNO?" Nick, a fellow archaeologist, asked.

"I do!" I responded.

"Alright, get over here." We had portable dinner trays that we used to play on. All of us got dished out seven cards and around we went: playing cards, drawing cards, skipping, and changing the course of the game.

"Uno," I called.

"No way," My father said, "Again?"

"This kid's good," Johnathan shrugged. Everyone took their turn, and I placed my last card, claiming five games out of eight.