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“So, see, what it is, is, Dad is really too young to be a papa bear type over here, but he does have the perfect voice for a big, warm, kind, squishy brown bear. There's nothing squishy on him yet because some people don't really do middle-aged spread.”
“But what is middle-aged spread, Gracie?”
“It's like butter, but it has extra calories, it really packs on pounds, and middle-aged people really like it.”
Eight-year-old Gracie Trent and best friend seven-year-old Amanda Ludlow from next door were sitting in the sunshine and getting the best understanding of the world that they could.
“Sounds like it would really taste good, though,” Amanda said, “like when Grandma makes a cake and creams the butter and sugar in a bowl, but, I never see her eating it, or Papa either.”
“See?” Gracie said. “Your grandparents and forever parents are smart just like ours. I think middle-aged spread is probably really good for cooking, and this is probably why most grandmas cook better than just about anyone else but some aunties. There's some good parts to getting old if you know what you are doing.
“But anyway, your grandpa and forever dad actually has the perfect skin, white hair, height, and voice to be Papa Polar Bear, Amanda.”
“You know, I've never thought of him as particularly beary – is that the word?”
“I don't know. Sounds like we're back to eating again.”
“But that's just it, Gracie. Papa is really very sweet when you get to know him. I know him. Yes, he has the huge voice, and he is tall and broad and once slapped a man's jaw out of his mouth like a bear would – that's what I heard, anyway – but he left it close enough so the man could have it put back in! Wasn't that nice of him?”
“Well, kinda, Amanda. I mean, probably doing the whole jaw is nicer than having the teeth scattered all around. It's easier that way.”
“See?” Amanda said, and gave her biggest smile. “He's such a real person!”
“Yeah, I think all our adults are real people,” Gracie said. “Veteran people are definitely different than regular people, but still, they are very real people. My dad and your forever dad are veteran people, and I guess the roughness and knowing how to do that in the easiest way possible go with that.”
“What stories have you heard about your dad, though, Gracie?”
“Well, not much, because we were all here the day he shot all four tires from that terrible criminal that was trying to escape and made that man run to get caught in his Stacey Adams. Dad is not just a sergeant, you know. He's a master sergeant. That puts him about up there with captain, you know.”
“I know!” Amanda said. “Uncle Sarge is definitely up there!”
“But see, this is the thing about my dad – you know how your grandpa does stuff with his voice?”
“Yep.”
“Dad doesn't even have to say anything, and the bullets will bend and become stupidity-seeking missiles for him. Remember, Amanda, he wasn't even looking at the tires on the other side of the car. Now, would you be stupid enough to have a fight with a man who can just think about it and make a stupidity-seeking missile?”
“I would if I was stupid enough!” Amanda said, “but, there can't be that many because people would have flat tires all the time.”
“And that's why my dad doesn't have as many stories,” Gracie said. “Somebody just got a flat tire or two or three or four and their jaw was spared needing to be slapped out of their mouth.”
“So they went to the car repair shop instead of the hospital!” Amanda said.
“Hospitals for cars,” Gracie said. “When you want to stay stupid, it kinda always costs you, somehow.”
“So we definitely gotta keep learning,” Amanda said. “I think we should both go get a book, and read it, and talk about it.”
“Ain't it the truth,” Gracie said as both little girls got up. “I mean, we already figured out a lot of stuff today, but we gotta get ready for tomorrow.”