Brink of Disaster

Three year old Tony padded purposefully through the kitchen in search of his father. Dressed in his Eeyore pajamas and with his hair still damp from bathing he knew his own bedtime approached.

Therein lay his problem.

He could see plainly that the outside light had given way to streaks of dark already, yet he could not locate his daddy.

What would he do if his dad failed to read him his bedtime story, listen to his prayers, or kiss him goodnight?

Dramatically Tony muttered to himself as he peeked into the pantry. "You know better, too, Daddy. You should come take care of me right now."

A reflection of foil caught the sliver of light from the kitchen's overhead and Tony paused, his curiosity aroused. He yanked open the pantry door the entire way to determine the source of the sparkling reflection. A package of chocolate chip cookies with a shimmery silver stripe down the seam lay visible above him on the second shelf.

The precocious toddler turned around excitedly and retraced his steps, formulating a battle plan as he moved.

He nearly skidded into the dishwasher in his haste, but caught himself by grabbing the edge of the counter.

An incredibly striking child with soft brown hair generously streaked with blond and long lashed green eyes, the boy turned heads wherever he went. Though tiny for his age, Tony loved any physical activity or chance to play outdoors, and no one contradicted the fact that he was all boy. He lived for action and in fact, had already proven himself as quite a daredevil.

He possessed both a strong will and incredible determination, evidenced as he grabbed his booster seat from his chair at the family's kitchen table. Setting it on the floor with a clatter, he grasped the back, started running, and pushed it ahead of him like a race car into the pantry's depths. He narrated the journey with the appropriate automobile sounds, having already developed an ear for the way engines purred or screeched on roadways.

Once parked in the pantry he commandeered the seat to climb within the reach of the cookies.

He carefully extracted two chocolate treats from the package before he shoved the plastic tray and remainder back in the wrapper, then returned the package to its former place on the shelf. Greedily he began eating one while he dragged his booster chair back to where it belonged at the table.

However, he encountered a problem upon his return. Appraising the distance he would have to lift the booster overhead to place it correctly in the chair, he simply left it beside his seat and resumed his mission.

"I will find Daddy right now," he announced aloud, and clutching his cookie, he toddled to the top of the basement stairs. Sometimes his father used wood and tools to build things down there in his workspace. He had made Tony a bookcase to keep in his room, for example, and just recently had designed a coat rack for the foyer.

Tony stooped down and peered through the wooden railing into the open area. He would get into big, big trouble if he went down the steps and into the basement without an adult present and an adult's explicit permission. Daddy and Abuela warned him often that tools and projects required serious safety precautions in the basement, and that he could get hurt if he disobeyed.

Sometimes if he got hurt Ducky would come examine him and make it better. Ducky was a doctor and he knew how to make yucky medicine taste good.

Frowning, the preschooler surveyed the area below him. He saw no sign whatsoever of his father. Standing, he gripped the rail and actually contemplated sneaking a trip down the steps while no one could see him. As he stuck his foot out for the next step, though, reasoning prevailed and he yanked it back. Getting his bottom smacked for disobeying would upset the remainder of his night, plus make his rear end hurt.

Wisely turning around and dismissing the urge to disobey, he took a wide bite out of his second cookie and licked his lips gratefully at the chocolate delight. It tasted so good and he loved it so much! He had begged Abuela, his grandmamma, to buy those treats for him, and it had taken hard work on his part their last trip to the grocery store.

She rarely allowed him to have sugar in any form, so even though she bought them, she allotted the cookies to him just once in a while.

Still, he had won the major battle when she actually purchased them.

Tony grinned to himself recalling the cashier packing the treats into the grocery bag that day.

A stab of guilt overwhelmed him and he held the cookie at arm's distance to regard it. Would his abuela realize he had eaten not one, but two cookies when she returned? When she came back to the house could she figure out that he had made his way into the pantry and helped himself to two of the delicacies?

Every time he did something bad or thought of doing something naughty, somehow she knew. Even when she was not in the room she could tell if he had disobeyed.

He squared his tiny shoulders and made a calculated decision. He might just as well finish eating the cookie, because then she would find no evidence of his crime.

That would stack the odds of circumventing potential trouble in his favor.

With the chocolate chip dilemma solved satisfactorily he wound his way to the living room. Climbing onto the sofa he marched over all three cushions before he stood still on the middle pillow and surveyed the living space top to bottom.

No- no Jethro Gibbs returned his gaze.

The little boy frowned and puffed his bottom lip into a practiced pout. "It is not good manners for Daddy to not be anywhere for me to see him," he observed in his most victimized tone. "This is not nice and I am not happy about it."