Welcome to another week. Hope all had a great weekend and is ready for a short break to read a flash fiction scene based off the phrase: Blue Bandit. I came up with this week’s phrase by adding a color with my dog’s name.
Have a great week and remember:
Let your imagination soar when you read.
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James couldn’t believe what he came home to. Rave, the man he loved, the man he’d chosen to commit himself to, and raise a child with sat in the floor with Taylor, their four year old son, painting on the dog.
Roxy, their solid white Cocker Spaniel was sitting patiently, wagging her tail, as Rave and Taylor brushed blue pain toward her long fluffy ears. From the blue paint perfectly painted circles around Roxy’s eyes Rave had done the majority of the decorating. Might have been the only reason Roxy was behaving. Taylor’s high energy level made the calmest person agitated, but Roxy pretty much did whatever Rave told her to.
“Uh, oh.” Taylor’s eyes grew into two huge brown orbs.
“Son, what . . . Sh - - Shoot.” James laid the brush down and cautiously stood. “Honey, the paint is washable.”
James didn’t really care if the pain was washable. He was trying to figure out whether he should scream at Rave for allowing and contributing to such craziness. Scold him for putting such idiotic behavior in front of Taylor. Or praise him for changing his word, the man had a bad habit of cursing, which Taylor had picked up on.
“Daddy Rave,” Taylor’s soft voice alerted James to his son’s comprehension of how much trouble they were both in.
“Told you we’d be in trouble.”
James coughed, covering up the snicker that had tried to escape. He schooled his face and laid his briefcase onto the dark brown coffee table. “Son, if you knew you’d be in trouble why did you paint Roxy?”
“Daddy Rave said she wouldn’t mind looking like a Blue Bandit.”
Rave’s mouth fell open and he shook his head. “Honey, I promise . . .”
James held his hand up, knowing what Taylor was up to. His son was a smart boy and would do whatever it took to push the blame onto others if he thought he could.
“And why would Daddy Rave want to make Roxy a Blue Bandit?”
“To make her similar to the bandit mask on television.”
Ah, the picture was even clearer. Taylor had been watching some cartoon the other day where the dog had a black mask around tied around his face. He’d mentioned something about it’d be cool if the mask was blue. He’d discovered Taylor reasoning, know he had to understand why his partner thought it would be okay to paint the dog.
James shifted his gaze to Rave, who had his head down and shaking it. “Enlighten me as to why this is wrong to so many degrees.”
“In hindsight, I can see how wrong it was for me to give into letting Taylor convince me to paint the mask, but he was so excited. I couldn’t tell him no, and Roxy didn’t mind. Look at how pretty she is sitting. The pain will wash out and there’ll be no harm done. I’ll give her the bath myself. I’ll explain to Taylor why what I did and allowed him to do was so wrong. I promise, it’ll never happen again.”
James let his lover try to dig himself out of the trouble he’d gotten himself without letting the humor in the entire situation show. There was only one thing Rave left out of his please-don’t-send-me-to-the-couch speech. Rave himself was a child at heart, which most likely why Taylor had no trouble whatsoever convincing him it was perfectly fine to give make turn Roxy into a Blue Bandit.
“You both will be washing the dog and best pray the pain don’t stain her white hair.”
Rave’s eyes grew wide when the realization of what might happen to Roxy’s snow-white coat from his little adventure. It was the point that pushed James into spinning toward the kitchen door, escaping Taylor’s eyesight so he could laugh his ass off at the two of them.
Seconds later he felt warmth press into his back and a small kiss to the back of his neck. “Take it I’m not sleeping on the couch if it does.”
“No, Rave, just go wash it off of her.”
“Is kind of funny isn’t it.”
“Let’s see if you are still thinking that when we have a blue dog instead of a white one.”
“Shit, honey, I wasn’t thinking.”
Rave’s child like tone threw him into another round of chuckles.
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