Tuna Noodle Casserole
With a loud gust the door bangs open. I sit up in bed; what was that noise? Was that the door? Did someone fall through? They better not have knocked down my pots and pans! Maybe toppled the trash cans over? What is that noise now? It's loud repetitive, hypnotic; I can feel my head nodding along with the beat. It drifts from the front door to our room, the words spluttering, racing, and slipping over teeth. It sounds so familiar…Rapping, it's a rap! The words vibrate the walls as they echo up the staircase, drifting closer they become clearer.
Tuna noodle casserole.
Tuna. Noodle. Casserole.
Suddenly, our bedroom door is kicked open and he barges into the room.
Tuna noodle casserole!
"Don't you like our rap?" He asks, thrusting his phone into my face, the song blasting. He smiles brightly, his face almost as red as his hair.
I smile back, pulling him into bed,
"I love it."