“But see, by this time, we should really know that if we tell Milton anything, he needs specifics.”
This was how eleven-year-old Velma Trent compassionately prepared her parents, Sgt. Vincent and Mrs. Melissa Trent, for what they were about to see, stemming from the order to “use the soap” not being bounded by specifics.
“Hey – did y'all know what you can do with a bathtub, some soda, the right mints, and soap, although I have to say the hand soap we use is bit weak and so I had to run this bath again but I washed it all that down already and started over with our dish soap and look at this THICC bubble bath! I need to market this!”
“Hello, Captain Hamilton?” nine-year-old Vertran Stepforth was saying on the phone from the next room as Mrs. Trent's scream of surprise rang through the Trent home. “Hi, this is Vertran over at the Trent house catty-corner across the field from your home – you know how you gave my brother asylum when he blew up my family's kitchen? I'mma need you to come do a pickup for my cousin Milton.”
“Ain't it the truth – and please hurry!” eight-year-old Gracie Trent said.
Having heard Mrs. Trent's scream, the older Trent offspring 18-year-old Vanna and 21-year-old Melvin broke into a run toward home and noted that their lithe paternal grandmother, Mrs. Gladys Jubilee Trent, kept up with them.
“But this is why you young people gotta keep your lives together because I can't do that every day,” she said as they pulled up and realized what was actually going on because the conversation, at some volume, was continuing.
“Parents do not know everything because I've been saying this: there's no point in giving Milton chores,” Vanna said. “You have to do chores with Milton, because if you leave him alone with his imagination and household chemicals, he will snatch the property value clear up out of your house.”
“Forget Capt. Hamilton – GRANDMA!” Gracie, Velma, and Vertran said as they came running out of the house.
“They gonna kill him this time for sure!” Vertran said.
“Ain't nobody doing all that,” Mrs. Jubilee Trent said, and just walked into the house … and shortly afterward, things quieted down.
“The power of a good grandma,” six-year-old Grayson Ludlow said from two houses down as he looked through the window. “We don't know what all that was about, and now we don't need to know.”
“Yeah,” seven-year-old Amanda said as she snuggled back into Mrs. Thalia Ludlow, her and Grayson's grandmother.
“What do you mean yeah – and what do you mean I can't go check it out with you, Papa?” eight-year-old Edwina said as she was doggedly following Capt. R.E. Ludlow to the porch. “Why you gotta get all the juicy action, and I gotta stay here and can't even get close enough to quality eavesdrop?”
“Hello, Capt. R.E. Ludlow speaking,” he said as he picked up his phone. “Mrs. Jubilee Trent – good morning. I was just on my way over. Can I be of any assistance? … Milton did what now? … well, the boy will be ready to study industrial chemistry in college on a full scholarship by the time he gets out of being grounded.”
