Bouncy

by B. Sobjakken

She waggles her eyebrows. “He’s looking to add his banana to that fruit salad.” I blink. “What?” “You know, batter-dipping the corn dog. Creaming your twinkie,” she says, a faint smile curling on her lips is the only inclination that she’s not serious. I’m stunned silent for a second, so she continues, “Bringing the al dente noodle to the spaghetti house.” Slapping a hand over her mouth, I scrunch my nose. “Wouldn’t al dente make it limp?” Her eyes widen and then her shoulders shake with laughter. Uncovering her mouth, I fall into giggles with her.

I nod. “I want it more than I want the air to breathe.” Her nose scrunches. “I like you breathing.” “And I’d like to munch your krabby patty.”

My eyes widen at the noise so similar to flatulence even though I know for a fact my buttcheeks aren’t flapping. Tears water in my eyes as I blink up at him. “That wasn’t…I didn’t—“ “Shhh, baby,” he says, his hand pressing down on my lower stomach. He surges forward another inch. “Your tight, tiny canal is emptying for me. It’s my victory horn.”