Page 46 of Out on a Limb

Walker stopped at the bathroom door and looked at Cameron with genuine appreciation. “Thanks.”

“Shower. Now.”

One door closed and another was about to be opened. Hobie stood in the hallway in his pajamas. Cameron affixed his hands on his hips and stared down the scrawny, pint-sized ragamuffin. How could somebody so small cause so much whirlwind? It was the butterfly effect in full force.

“Why are you wearing your normal clothes?” Hobie asked.

“I, um, forgot to pack pajamas.”

“You had a sleepover? On a school night?”

Cameron avoided going down that rabbit hole. “Hobie, I am here to help you get ready. What first?”

Hobie blinked at him blankly. Walker was obviously the leader of the morning routine.

“Have you brushed your teeth yet?”

“Do I have to? They’re baby teeth! They’re going to fall out anyway!”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Cameron straightened his posture to mimic Superman. He was Morningman to the rescue! He stretched his arm. “To the bathroom!”

He pretended to fly down the hall to the bathroom next to Hobie’s room. Hobie flew right alongside him, his stubby legs scurrying to keep up.

Cameron needed sunglasses to handle the bright yellow paint of the bathroom walls. One Spongebob toothbrush lay at the base of the sink with a tube of kids toothpaste rolled up from the bottom.

“My dad says we don’t need that much,” Hobie said to the glob of toothpaste Cameron squeezed onto the brush. He didn’t have to specify which dad. The unfun one, obviously.

“Fair enough.” Cameron wiped off half and placed the ball on the edge of the sink. He handed the brush to Hobie. “Here you go.”

Hobie didn’t take it. “I don’t want to.”

“You have to.”

“Brushing is stupid.”

“There are a lot of stupid things we have to do.”

“But why do I have to brush if my teeth are just going to fall out anyway?”

“Because the tooth fairy doesn’t accept dirty teeth.”

“My dad said the tooth fairy isn’t real.”

Cameron made a note not to bring up Santa to the kid. He held out the brush with a smile this time. “Come on, Hobie. You need to brush.”

“You can’t make me. You’re not my dad.”

He had a point there. Kids could be smart at the worst times. What was he doing? Cameron had zero experience with small children. Now he was supposed to get this one ready for school. He was the very definition of in over his head.

Hobie went back to his room to play with Legos. Walker was so good at the firm dad thing, but Cameron couldn’t play that card. He searched the medicine cabinet and found an extra, unopened toothbrush. He globbed on the toothpaste.

“All right. If you have to brush, then I have to brush, too,” he said. Hobie looked up from his castle/rocket ship, unimpressed. “Hobie, brushing can be fun. You get to do the foaming beast thing.”

“What’s the phony bee sting?”

Cameron smiled with a plan. “You’ve never let yourself foam at the mouth?”

Hobie gave him an odd look. Cameron may have hooked him. “Follow me.”