Wrongly Labeled [On Hold]

Chapter 14

"Daddy, why does that boy look like a chipmunk?"

       "Honey, that's not nice to say. That's Daddy's future boss."

       "Daddy's future boss? But he looks like a chipmunk," I said, pointing to the boy. I didn't understand. It was my first time seeing a boy that looked like that. Why was his cheeks so big and his face so round?

      "Sweetie, listen. Daddy will lose his job if you say that to him."

       Lose his job? Why would Daddy lose his job if I call him a chipmunk? "But Daddy—"

      "Aubrey. Be nice, okay?"

      "But Daddy, I was being nice! It's a com—comeplant?" 

       He laughed. "Compliment, Sweetie."

      "Yes, compment," I copied. "Doesn't he look like one, Daddy?"

      Daddy looked at the boy in the hospital bed. "Sweetie, he doesn't look like a chipmunk."

      "Yes he does! He has fat cheeks like this." I pulled my cheeks with my fingers, and showed Daddy. He laughed again. I let go of my cheeks and looked at the boy again. "Daddy, can I give Daddy's future boss a gift? He looks sad."

      "Tell you what, when Mommy comes out, we can go to the store together and get him flowers. How does that sound?"

      "No, no flowers. I want a chipmunk."

      "Sweetie, we can't buy him a chipmunk. The hospital won't allow it."

      "A fake one?"

     "Well . . . I guess a stuff animal is okay."

      I smiled. "Yay! Will Daddy's future boss be happy?"

     "Of course he will, Sweetie."

      "Promise?"

      "Promise."

      It wasn't until I was older that I figured out the boy in the hospital wasn't my dad's boss son. In fact, my dad's boss didn't even have a son. He had a daughter.

      I guess that's one way to scared a child. But he didn't have to lie. He could've told me the truth. He could've told me calling someone a chipmunk wasn't nice because it was just plain rude. But I was young. I didn't know it was rude. I thought it was a compliment. I thought I was being nice. Even though the boy's cheeks were wide and bulging, they were smooth, and creamy. It made him cute.

       He was torturously eye-catching to me growing up. I didn't know why. He just was. Maybe that's why I felt the need to buy him a present.

      But I didn't get to see his smile. When I got back, he wasn't there, and my parents needed to go. So I left the chipmunk and a note.

      To this very day, I could still remember what I'd said:

Dear Mr. Chipmunk.

Please smile. You'll look cuter when you do.

Be happy, okay?

-A

       Of course the note didn't exactly say that. I was young, and I couldn't for the life of me spell correctly.