Mommy Eyes shortscarystories

I’m whisper-counting stitches. Tyler is playing with his toy car on the kitchen floor, just out of sight. He’s making motor noises with his mouth. The plastic tires cry against the tile. There’s an obnoxious clattering as he sends the little car careening into the wall. He squeals with delight as the cat tears across the living room in terror.

Then, silence. My hook freezes mid-stitch as I listen. Quiet footsteps, the familiar pop of the refrigerator door.

“Tyler!”

Pop.

“Yes, mom?”

“Come here.”

Trudging footsteps.

“Did you open the refrigerator?”

“Well... I…”

“Tyler…”

“Yes… I did.”

“What do you want out of there?”

“I want a juice box. I’m sooo firsty!”

“Well, what do you have to do?”

“Ask first!”

“Well…”

“Um… oh! Mom, can I have a juicebox?”

“Yes. Just ask first next time, okay?”

“Okay!”

He scampers off.

“Hey, mom!” He yells from the kitchen.

“Yes?”

“How did you know I opened the refigidator from all the way in there?”

“I can always see you with my mommy eyes.”

“Oh… yeah! I can see your mommy eyes!”

…

I’m lying in bed, reading.

Tyler is asleep in his room.

The door creaks open. Two guilty little eyes peer through.

“Tyler?”

He bursts in, crying, clutching something bright in one outstretched hand.

“I’m sorry!”

“What for?”

He holds out the hand clutching one of my crochet hooks.

“I took it. I’m… sorry,” He sobs.

“Shhh,” I say, rubbing his back, “It’s okay, buddy.”

When he was calm, I asked, “What did you want with this thing anyway?”

“I don’t know,” He yawned, rubbing his eyes, “Will you tuck me in and we can talk about it tomorrow?”

“Okay, bud,” I chuckled as I scooped him up and tucked the hook into the pocket of my robe “Let’s get you to bed.”

His eyes are wide open once I lay him down. They’re focused on the wall behind me. He lifts his hand slowly, extending one pudgy finger.

“That’s how I knew that I-I mean you knew I took your yarn thingy,” He said.

I slowly turn in the direction of his pointing finger.

“Those are your mommy eyes, right?”

I grip the hook in my pocket as I turn to face a pair of phosphorescent eyes hovering just behind me in the dark.

“Right? Mom?”

Submitted January 15, 2018 at 07:37AM by lazykill http://ift.tt/2mDy1II shortscarystories