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Ben is at the grocery store with Stephen, the little eighteen-month old safely in his arms and busy reaching for things off the shelves, when Jean-Ralphio sneaks up on them, practically making Ben jump.
He still, really doesn’t handle surprises well.
“Ben-ihana!”
“Oh, um, hi?”
“What is this, what is this? Oh! Is this a mini jello-shot?” Jean-Ralphio makes a face which Stephen returns in delight.
“Yes. This is my son,” Ben answers. “Stephen.”
“Oh, right. Hi little man,” he tells the child, reaching out to take his hand.
Ben grabs Stephen’s small hand protectively before they can make contact. “Uh, no. Sorry, he’s um, probably…sticky?”
“Oh, that’s fine. I am too,” Jean-Ralphio responds, taking the child’s hand.
Ben shuts his eyes as Stephen and Jean-Ralphio shake gleefully. He makes a mental note to anti-bacterial wipe his son down as soon as they get to the car.
“Wait, didn’t you have a whole litter? What happened? Did you lose the rest?”
“They’re at home with Leslie,” Ben answers patiently, as Stephen twists in his arms, trying to grab onto Jean-Ralphio’s hair next, giggling loudly.
“Right. Hold up–I just had an amazing idea.”
“Hi!” Stephen shouts suddenly, holding his hand out to touch Jean-Ralphio again.
“Hi, player,” Jean-Ralphio returns. “So babies? Absolute chick magnets. What do you say I take this one off your hands for the day and he and I hit the strip clubs. See if we can find some milk jugs for lunch.”
“Oh. God. Um, No? No. That is not happening.”
“Okay,” Jean-Ralphio shrugs. “I gotta go to the pharmacy to pick up some oiiinnnt-meeennnt. Later J-shot. Mini j-shot.”