Entirely Too Responsible

Dubsie was recovering from a spot of cold and a cough, and to get out of the house we went for bubble tea. Sweet taro and tapioca balls; if only that treat had been around when I was a kid.

The tea shop is a new whitewashed place in the neighborhood. We agreed we would share one. The drink arrived cold and purple. I picked up a straw, one of those fat ones sized to suck up a tapioca ball, and returned to the table. But Dubsie had a word of advice.

“Dada, shouldn’t you get another straw? We shouldn’t share a straw. I’ve been sick, Dada! I don’t want to get you sick. You’ve got to go to work tomorrow!”

I shot a sidelong glance at this five-year-old grandmother of mine and obediently fetched another straw. At least somebody’s being responsible around here.


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