“Face down, crybaby. The back keeps them flat.”<\/p>\n
“Wow,” I said, “art supplies are sexier than I thought.”<\/p>\n
“Not if you fuck them up.”<\/em> “You don’t know what I’m into.”<\/p>\n “Mm.”<\/p>\n “Oh shit.”<\/em><\/p>\n “What- what is it?”<\/p>\n “We forgot sprinkles.”<\/p>\n “…kid, I. should fucking. kill you.”<\/p>\n “Um.”<\/p>\n A moment.<\/p>\n “Come in here,” you said, “before you catch something on fire.”<\/p>\n In the kitchen, you were intently focused on mixing cake batter.<\/p>\n “I wasn’t-”<\/p>\n “I know, dummy,” you smirked, not looking up. “The keys are in my pocket.”<\/p>\n “I’m really-”<\/p>\n A look.<\/p>\n “Hush. Go get the sprinkles. I <\/em>forgot them. Please and thank you.”<\/p>\n <\/p>\n “Hold on,” you said, putting me on speaker, “I am dyeing.”<\/p>\n I said nothing.<\/p>\n “Okay, what is it?”<\/p>\n “Guess how many different shades they have.”<\/p>\n “I give up.”<\/p>\n “Very close. Five.”<\/p>\n “Very<\/em>,” you said. “What the hell, five?”<\/p>\n “One of them is sugar-free.”<\/p>\n A laugh.<\/p>\n “I think that is rice. Or, you are at Party City again.”<\/p>\n “Excuse me,” I said, away from the receiver, to no one, “is this Party City?”<\/p>\n Another.<\/p>\n “Good grief,” you sighed. “Are there really five?”<\/p>\n “Five that I found.”<\/p>\n “Ridiculicious. Okay, I am hanging up on you, do not call back.”<\/p>\n “Heard.”<\/p>\n “Hurry home.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" “Face down, crybaby. The back keeps them flat.” “Wow,” I said, “art supplies are sexier than I thought.” “Not if you fuck them up.”<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","_uag_custom_page_level_css":"","footnotes":""},"categories":[7,3],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-1896","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-letter","category-method","content-columns-1"],"uagb_featured_image_src":{"full":false,"thumbnail":false,"medium":false,"medium_large":false,"large":false,"1536x1536":false,"2048x2048":false,"post-thumbnail":false,"post-thumbnail-mobile":false,"post-thumbnail-full":false,"origami-slider":false,"sow-carousel-default":false,"sow-blog-portfolio":false,"sow-blog-grid":false,"sow-blog-alternate":false},"uagb_author_info":{"display_name":"boy","author_link":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/author\/theboy\/"},"uagb_comment_info":2,"uagb_excerpt":"“Face down, crybaby. The back keeps them flat.” “Wow,” I said, “art supplies are sexier than I thought.” “Not if you fuck them up.”","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1896","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1896"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1896\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1932,"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1896\/revisions\/1932"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1896"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1896"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/briefbloom.com\/journal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1896"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n
\nI didn’t catch that until now. Funny guy.<\/p>\n