Grandpa Monroe had finally put his foot down and said enough.
Travis got it. Like they said on the airlines, you needed to place your oxygen mask on first. If you wanted to help others. Martyrs caused more problems than they solved, in his opinion. Though he appreciated all she’d done for his wife and son, he agreed with Monroe. There was no reason to continue any longer.
Travis, being away on missions, hadn’t seen his son as often as he’d wanted to. Having a SEAL for a dad could be hard on the children.
Monroe, being an inventor of sorts, spent a lot of time in his basement, behind a locked door, trying to invent things. He’d only let Travis into the room once, after Travis and Linda got married. Before Travis came into the room, everything was covered with tarps. Monroe’s paranoia about anyone stealing his secrets stopped Travis from asking questions.
The room was off limits to little boys, even grandsons who were well behaved.
The result of all this, though Travis could see his son had been very loved and well taken care of, was that the boy having had little masculine attention and being doted on by his grandmother, had become more effeminate than a five-year-old boy would normally be.
Travis blamed himself. And he was more than willing to make up for it.
Scotty needed to be around men who did manly things. And who better to teach him than his SEAL dad.
So far, their trip to Montana had started out well.
Scotty sat looking out at the landscape or at his new comic books. He had one Spiderman, one Superman, and one Batman.
When Travis had learned his son didn’t even know who these superheroes were, he found a copy of each to read to him. And though Scotty couldn’t read yet, he was enjoying the pictures and from them he could get most of the story on his own.
They had a few books Grandma Betty had packed for Scotty. The one about a big red dog seemed to be the boy’s favorite. It was the one he asked for first, every time. Right before bedtime was story time and it was a good way to get his son to settle down and for them to enjoy that time together. Story time had become a special time for both.
Later, after they were settled in, Travis would get them a dog. Maybe for Christmas or the boy’s birthday. He’d have to investigate what were the best breeds for little kids. The best kind for a boy to grow up with.
When they stopped for dinner, Travis started to order shrimp baskets for both when Scotty interrupted.
“No, I don’t want that,” he said. “I don’t like shrimp baskets.”
Travis knew that couldn’t be true because it was one of the most common things Scotty would eat when he went out to dinner with his grandma and grandpa. “You’ve eaten them before and not said anything. You liked them then.”
His son was now starting to pout. The first sign of difficulty since they got on the road. Travis needed to nip this behavior in the bud right now. “Little man, this place serves fried shrimp, fried fish and chicken fingers. Which one do you want?”
“No,” his son shook his head. “Those are yucky. Not hungry.”
He wasn’t going to make his son eat, if he wasn’t hungry, but he knew for a fact that he was. If the little boys growling stomach, was any indication.
“Okay, but I’m hungry, so I’m going to order dinner and eat,” Travis said.
“I’m not stopping later, if you suddenly decide you’re hungry.”
Scotty didn’t answer, just continued pouting.
Travis ordered the shrimp basket and a side of chicken fingers. Chicken wasn’t bad cold, and he’d have it in the car when Scotty changed his mind.
He didn’t see how the boy could be tired when he’d been sleeping so much in the truck, but maybe he was tired, or had woken up on the wrong side of things.
They sat at a table and waited for the food to be ready. Scotty continued to pout, and Travis decided to ignore it. Instead, he got out his phone and looked the route over while looking up gas prices on an app he had on his phone.
“Grandma says its rude to look at your phone all the time instead of looking at people,” Scotty said.
“It’s also rude to pout,” Travis said.
Scotty frowned, adding to the pout.
“Hope your face doesn’t freeze that way,” Travis said.
“Faces can’t freeze,” Scotty said.
