Six

                                    

                                          
Spoilers!  There is lots of Doctor Who talk in this chapter, and if you are just starting to watch the show there is serious spoilers.  Sorry about that.
                          
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When our parents got home they would found us in the main room of my house, arguing over popcorn.
                          
“Just put it in the middle!” I said.
                          
“No, it needs to be on my lap!” he retorted.
                          
“Why?  It’s popcorn!   We can both reach it better if it’s in the middle!”
                          
“But the blanket will cover it and get threads in the buttery goodness!”
                          
“We can set it on top of the blanket, it will be fine,” I sighed.
                          
“But it’s not the same as having it on someone’s lap,” Breton argued.
                          
“Ugh!  Fine, it will go on my lap then!” I cried, scooting closer to him and grabbing the bowl from him.  “Now shut up and watch the stupid movie.”  
                          
Breton said nothing, but sat with his arms crossed, bottom lip stuck out in a pout.
                          
“Kids!” my mom giggled.  “We’ll be over at the Joel’s until later, okay?  It’s a weekend, so you can stay up as late as you want.  Breton, there are spare pillows in the closet if you’re going to spend the night.”
                          
“What the heck mother?” I asked. 
                          
“Behave you two!” my mom said, blowing me a kiss and following the Joel’s out the door.
                          
“My mom has issues.  She’s crazy.  That was not the normal her.  I think she got food poisoning from the Chinese,” I rationalized.  Even though that wasn’t a very rational expression.
                          
“Shh!”  Breton shoved a handful of popcorn in my mouth, effectively shutting me up as the opening credits rolled.
                          

                          
“Aww, the two of them are just - hic - adorable,” someone said.
                          
“Should - hic - we wake them up?” another voice asked.
                          
“Let’s take pictures, so we can cherish these memories of when they were young,” a third person suggested.  At least there was one person without hiccups.  “Hic.”  I take it back.
                          
“Shh, Georgie’s waking up,” the first one said.  The room went silent after that, and I slowly drifted back to dreamland.
                          

                          
“Stop moving,” I groaned the next morning when my bed started slowly shifting.  “Stop!” I repeated.  For a minute, everything was still, and then I was being flipped upside down and became stuck that way.  “MOM!” I shrieked.  “My bed’s attacking me!”
                          
“Calm down,” a deep voice rumbled.  “It’s me.”
                          
“I didn’t know you could talk, Bed,” I said.
                          
“I’m not your bed Georgie,” my bed said.
                          
“Well who else could you be?  There is no way someone is in my bedroom,” I explained stupidly, trying to rub sleepy fog from my eyes.  As soon as I did, I immediately regretted it.  
                          
“AH!  I’m staring at a butt!” I cried.  Whoever it was that was holding me released their grip slightly and I started sliding down their back, screaming as loud as I could.  Luckily, they caught me.
                          
“Are you always this crazy in the morning?” the aforementioned strange person asked.
                          
“No.  This is pretty good for me after I’ve woken up,” I said defensively.  “Where’s my mom?”