MEET THE GRAYSONS

(An Episodic Novelization of the Ground-Breaking Animated Sitcom)

Season 1 Episode 2- “Making the Baby is the Best Part.” Original Airdate, April 12th

Bo Grayson ached. Not just his back, or his neck, or the joints in his legs, or even the digits in his forepaws; everything ached. Even his muzzled ached. Bo ached. “AAaaaaaahyeeee….” He let out a long half-groan, half-yawn, before sitting down at the breakfast table; the creaking of the chair echoing the creaking of his bones. Damn, he wasn’t even thirty yet. How was it that he felt so old?

Across from the table sat Melinda, his loving bride. She was an elephant, he was a wolf, but in this crazy mixed up world you loved who you loved. Besides, in Bo’s mind, the correct response to the Jeopardy clue “A skinny girl can do this for you,” was “What is ‘Not a damn thing.’”

Adorned in her flowing yellow dress and pearls, looking every bit the domestic goddess from a bygone era (save perhaps for her smartphone), Melinda sat at the breakfast table, looking at Bo expectantly. “Morning, dear.” A veritable mountain of food sat between them. “Eat up”. Scrambled eggs, muffins, bagels, hot buttered pancakes, and heaps of bacon (mmmmm…bacon….) covered the table, just as it had every day since they came back from their honeymoon.

But the honeymoon was over, and Bo couldn’t afford anymore time off at the lumber mill. As was quickly becoming routine, he took a sip of coffee, crammed the bacon into his mouth, and rose up from his seat. “Thish looksh great, but I gotta run. Full day at da mill.” The butter on the pancakes hadn’t even melted, his coffee was still hot, and his seat was still cold. Such was life.

“It’s Saturday…”

Bo froze. Bits of bacon crumbled out of his mouth, dusting his work shirt with fried brown meat crumbs. “Shadurday?” He swallowed. “Saturday? That means I’m off.”

Melinda didn’t even look up from her phone. “Mmmmmhmmmm….”

The timber wolf knew what that tone meant. Gingerly he sat back down, making the old hand-me-down chair creak against his weight. “Huh…I finally have time to enjoy all this.”

“Mmmmmhmmmm…..”

“Neat.” Careful not to appear too ravenous as to not be appreciative, nor too slow as to seem picky, Bo filled up his plate. “Are there little diced onions in the scrambled eggs?”

The young Mrs. Grayson put down her phone and daintily took a bite of her pancakes. “Yep.”

“I love those!”

“I know.”

“And is that a plate of hash browns?”

Melinda took another bite. “Yep.”

“With melted cheese?”

“Every day this week…”

“Those are my favorite!”

Melinda put down her fork and gazed oh so lovingly across the table at her husband. “Gee, Bo, it’s almost like I’M YOUR WIFE!”

A tense silence engulfed the kitchen…

“Heh…”

“Heh-heh…”

“Heee-heee-heee-heee!”

And just as quickly it was broken as the two lovers laughed together. Maybe the honeymoon wasn’t quite over after all. Bo kept filling his plate up, unable to stop himself from sampling a bit of everything before he put the rest on his plate. “Good one, hon.”

“Thanks, babe.” Melinda was back to her phone, obviously pleased with herself.

Once again, Bo couldn’t help but marvel at the heaps and heaps of food. “Wow, this is a lot…!” That didn’t stop him from shoveling more eggs, pancakes, and cheesy hash browns into his muzzle. “How can we afford all this? Is this like…leftovers from the check my dad wrote us?”

“Nope.” Melinda took another bite of pancake. “I learned how to coupon clip and shop in bulk.”

“Cuz you’re an elephant?”

Melinda Grayson rolled her eyes. “Yes dear, I’m frugal and good with money because I’m an elephant.”

Bo swallowed and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “No, I mean all the-“

“I’m frugal and good with money…”

Time for another swig of coffee. “Yup, frugal and good with money. That’s what I meant, all right.” Another forkful of syrup and butter soaked pancakes found its way to Bo’s mouth. “Even so, we can’t keep THIS kind of breakfast routine up. How many times have you made this stuff this week?”

“Just one.”

“One?”

Bo’s wife was still looking at her phone. “Tupperware and heat lamps, babe. Tupperware and heat lamps. Our new fridge has gotten a heckuva workout.” Bo’s fork landed on the table with a clank of finality. Melinda didn’t take her eyes off of her phone. “What? Did you think I made the same spread every day this week?”

“Um…yeah…”

“And what do you think I did when you just dashed off to the mill every morning? Threw it all out?”

“No…”

“Then what?”

“I…thought you ate it…?” If Bo’s reflexes had been just a little bit duller or the distance across the table just an inch or so shorter, he would have received a Grade-A concussion via an angry wife’s trunk. “Yipe!” Ears full back and only the chair preventing his tail from going straight between his legs, the timber wolf was bracing himself for a second attack when-

“OH MY GOSH!” Melinda’s gaze was now dead set on the screen of her phone; her eyes wide with shock.

Bo untensed. “What is it?” Slowly, he unclenched his eyes and shuffled around the table so that he could try and look over Melinda’s shoulder.

His wife was just shaking her head in disbelief. “It’s…it’s my Uncle Kent.” Her voice was trembling.

“The Colonel?”

“Yes.”

“The peanut oil baron of the South?”

“That one….”

“The obscenely rich relative with no direct heirs that you’ve managed to stay in good graces with since before we started dating?”

“The same…!”

“The one that has been in such poor health these last few years that he didn’t even make it to our wedding?”

“YES!”

Bo saw the tears in his wife’s eyes, and wagged his tail a little bit. “Is he dead?”

Melinda hung her head. “Worse. He’s made a full recovery, and he’s coming to visit. TODAY!”

The wolf’s ears shot up in surprise. “THAT’S….THAT’S….that’s not so bad, actually.” He looked around. “I mean, the house could use a little sprucing up, I guess, but it’s not that bad, if we’re looking to entertain.”

“NOOOOO-O-O-O.” Melinda was on the verge of sobbing. Her trunk was already moving for the nearest case of tissues. The giant flaps of her ears were already trying to hide her face. “THIS IS TERR-I-BLE.”

Bo tried to comfort his wife, leaning into her and nuzzling her shoulder. “No honey, it’ll be fine. We’ll go to the grocery store, splurge on a couple of steaks…or maybe a recipe that involves peanut oil…rich people like it when you use their product ri-?”

“HE’S EXPECTING A BABY!”

Another sudden silence filled the air. Bo could only blink, dumbfounded, as Melinda blew her nose with a resounding HONK. “A what now?”

Melinda brushed her tears away and sniffed, regaining some of her composure. “A baby. I told him I was having a baby, and that I was naming it after him. It was one of the ways I was able to keep on his good side.”

Confused, Bo cocked his head a bit. “Wait…we’re not, are we…?

“No!” A gray elbow almost knocked the wind out of Bo. “And starting now wouldn’t help anything! Elephant pregnancies take two years!”

“Two years?” Bo frowned. “How long ago did you tell him this little fib?”

“Three years ago…”

“Three…three…?” The timber wolf was so surprised that his ears were almost touching the back of his neck. “Three years ago?! But we’ve only been in a relationship for two years, AND WE JUST GOT MARRIED!”

A fresh wave of tears poured down Melinda’s face, trickling down to the edge of her trunk. “IT WAS BEFORE I MET YOU! I WAS HOPING HE’D HAVE KICKED THE BUCKET BY NOWOW-OW-OW!”

“But now he’s planning to show up today-?”

“And he’s expecting a one year old ‘Lil’ Kent…!’” Incredibly, an entire box’s worth of tissues lay used on the floor beneath Melinda’s feet. “We’re gonna get cut out of the WI-I-I-IIILL!”

A rough, determined growl rumbled up from Bo’s throat. “No, we’re not.” He smacked his fist into his open palm. “We’ve got this.”

Melinda was already opening up a fresh box of tissues. “We do?”

“We’ll wine him and dine him and make sure he has such a good visit, he won’t even think about asking about a ‘Lil’ Kent’.” Melinda didn’t say anything to that. “How long is he staying?”

Floppy, leathery ears brushed away the last of the tears. “Just for the night.”

Bo smiled. “Great! We just gotta keep this act up for one night, and keep him occupied till we put him back on the plane.”

There was hope in her eyes. “Do you think we could maybe start working on a Lil’ Kent after? Just in case he wants to visit again in a couple of years?”

Bo’s snout crinkled up involuntarily. “Yeah…but then we’d have a baby to take care of, and the Colonel might leave us a fortune before then. So there’d be all that work for nothing…” He saw the look of hope and disappointment in his wife’s eyes. “I mean…one thing at a time, honey. First let’s get through tonight, and then we can talk about making a baby.”

“Okay…”

“First thing’s first. I bet I can find a good recipe for peanut chicken. It’ll probably be cheaper than steak, anyways. What time is he due to arrive?”

Melinda looked at her phone. “The email said seven o’clock.”

“That gives us plenty of time! To the grocery store!”

And just like that, Melinda was her old self again. “To the grocery store!”

As usual, the air was uncomfortably chilly at the WALRUS-MART. The constant thrumming of massive fans and air conditioners nearly drowned out the ever-buzzing announcements over the loudspeakers. “Ink Spill In Aisle 8: Cephalopod Needs and Stationery. Ink Spill In Aisle 8.”

Bo’s head was on a swivel, his eyes darting from place to place, his nose constantly sniffing, trying to find a trail. “I hate this place. I can never figure out how the layout works. Like, they’ve got Skunk and Polecat Hygiene right next to the Koala Products. It makes no sense!” He sniffed again. “And all the free samples they keep giving out are driving me crazy!”

“I know, I know.” Melinda gave her hubby a pat on the head. “But if we’re going to cook a meal fit for the Colonel we’ve got to-.”

“Buy in bulk.” Bo rolled his eyes. “I just don’t see why we can’t buy in bulk at Winn-Dixie.”

Now it was Melinda’s turn to scoff and roll her eyes. “You talk about things smelling weird to you and then you want to go to Winn-Dixie? The entire store smells like the seafood aisle!”

“Yeah, but Winn-Dixie is special to me. That’s where we met, remember? We met-“

“Because of Winn-Dixie; I know I know.” The pair kept walking, looking for the right ingredients. “But we’re here now and there’s a greater selection available, plus I have more coupons.” She started scanning the aisles, reading each aloud. “Let’s see. Aisle 219 -Vegan substitutes for meat- nope. Aisle 220 -Carnivorous substitutes for vegetables- nuh-uh. Aisle 221- greeting cards, birth through burial- not unless there’s a “Sorry I’ve Lied To You For Years card. Aisle 222- Baby supplies; sizes Kangaroo through Killer Whale. Aisle 223, Décor and hooooold on.”

Already several steps ahead of his wife, Bo had to back up to Aisle 222 where Melinda had firmly planted her feet and was now gazing down it as though she were at the gates of Heaven itself. “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

“It’s here.” Melinda’s pupils were shrunken, a dumb, almost awestruck smile spread across her face. “The answer to all our problems. It’s here.”

Bo snorted a bit and let out a huff from his nostrils. “I don’t think the Colonel will appreciate chicken with a baby food peanut glaze, Melinda.”

“No Bo, you don’t understand.” Melinda’s tone was almost dreamy as she pulled her husband closer to her, as some minor change in positioning would change his perspective. “We don’t have to admit that there’s no baby. We can make one.”

“But you said elephant pregnancies last 2 years. Even if we split the difference of a timber wolf pregnancy lasting 9 weeks, it’d still take-“

Melinda put her hand over Bo’s snout and squeezed it closed to keep him from talking. “I didn’t say anything about getting pregnant. I said we could make a baby.” She gave her husband a look he’d become all too familiar with.

The timber wolf swatted away his wife’s hand. “What do you mea-?” He stopped as the lightbulb over her head fizzled and exploded above his. “Oooooh no. No, no, no. We are not doing that! There is no way that we’re gonna do that. Absolutely no way!”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this.” Bo was beside himself with indignation in the living room as Melinda finished the last touches of the disguise she’d made. Unfortunately, it was hard to look intimidating wearing a diaper. Bo could only pout and cross his blue mitten encased hands over his baby-bibbed chest while Melinda adjusted the matching bonnet over the fake ears and trunk she’d whipped up.

He glanced down at his feet, paws cleverly concealed in matching blue baby booties, and wiggled his toes to make sure they were still there. Beside him, was a package of Calfies- the baby diaper sized specifically for bovines and pachyderms- ripped open with the next diaper poking out. It was all Bo could do to not kick the darn thing across the floor.

Melinda finished fastening the disguise and favored him with a chaste smooch on the cheek. “Just be glad your fur is the right color. Do you know how much dye it would take, otherwise?”

Trying to soothe himself and bring down the blush in his cheeks, the young wolf grabbed the pacifier dangling from around his neck and put it in his mouth. “So, explain the plan to me again.”

“When the Colonel comes, you’ll be wearing this. You’ll just hop in bed, and pretend to be asleep. Colonel Kent will peak in, go ‘D’aaaaaw, isn’t he cute?’, and then I’ll have dinner with him, send him on his way, and then this whole thing will be over.” Melinda punctuated her idea by giving her husband a light swat on the butt.

Wincing, Bo started looking for a way out. “Won’t he be wondering where your husband is?”

A dry, almost knowing chuckle came from Melinda as she stepped back and looked Bo up and down. “Naw. The Colonel is old school. Even married men don’t have much to do with child rearing. As far as he knows you’re a lumberjack who wires money every few weeks. ”

“I work at a mill!”

“He doesn’t know that! We’ll be lucky if he remembers you work with wood at all! Now, all you have to do is pretend to be asleep…or just be asleep for real.” She shrugged.

“At seven?” Bo was incredulous; he fancied himself the man of the house.

All of Bo’s attempts at protest were waved off. “Seven is a perfectly reasonable bedtime for a baby. And it’ll keep you out of the way so you don’t have to talk. Can’t get caught in a lie if you don’t talk.”

“But you’re the one who’s lying.”

She nodded. “That’s right, so let me do the talking.”

“Ugh…this is so ridiculous. He’s not gonna fall for this.” Furry shoulders slumped a bit in worry and exasperation. This was such a bad plan!

Melinda had her hands on her hips. “And why not?”

Why couldn’t she see the flaws in this? “Our house isn’t even set up for a baby. Shouldn’t I be sleeping in a crib or something?”

“You think we have the money for a crib? I’ll just say we co-sleep. It’s a perfectly hip and trendy modern Mommy thing.” Her foot was tapping. She was getting impatient, for some reason.

“Won’t he notice the complete lack of baby furniture?” Bo gestured around the room as if proving a point.

“Like what?”

“High chair?”

“I feed you in my lap.” Melinda cocked her head to the side, almost daring Bo to continue.

He obliged. “Playpen?”

“The whole living room is your playpen. It’s not like we have anything valuable for you to break.”

“Changing table?”

“Who needs one of those? I can change you anywhere there’s a flat and clean surface.”

Something in Melinda’s tone clicked for Bo. “Would you stop talking about me as if I’m an actual pup?! Err…calf? Err…baby?!”

“Oh, you know what I mean.” She leaned over and looked at Bo’s backside, noticing the particularly canine appendage poking out the back of the diaper. “Hmmm…your tail is awfully fluffy. What can we do about-?”

“Why do I have to wear this, anyways? Like, I get the head gear, but if I’m just going to be pretending to sleep, can’t I just hide under the covers au natural?” Bo normally didn’t mind his wife thoughtfully staring at his backside, but this was decidedly a major exception.

Melinda didn’t seem to take notice of her husband’s rising blush, or the building anxiety in his voice. “Because then the Colonel would know you weren’t wearing a diaper.”

“How?”

“He wouldn’t hear the crinkle. One move, and it’d be all over.”

Bo’s ears flattened as he frowned. “The Colonel would be able to hear me crinkle? From across our bedroom? With me laying down? Pretending to sleep? HOW?”

Melinda pointed to her ears. “HELLO?!”

“Point taken.” Instant emotional deflation, punctuated by a sigh. “You could have at least let me put the diaper on myself…”

“Then it wouldn’t fit right, silly. You’d leak.”

“LEAK?!”

Melinda chuckled. “I’m kidding…I’m kidding.”

Her husband was not amused. He let the pacifier drop out of his mouth and dangle on the little ribbon around his neck. “Why are you making me put this getup on now, anyhow? It’s not even 4 o’clock yet.”

“I just wanted to make sure everything fits juuuuust right. It’s like a dress rehearsal before the main perfor-“

THUNK THUNK THUNK!

Both heads whipped around in shock as the door took another pounding. “MELINDA! MELINDA DARLIN’! OPEN, I SAY, OPEN UP! THIS IS, I SAY, THIS IS YOUR UNCLE KENT!”

Melinda peeked through the gap in the curtains and saw a bushy-browed old elephant, the white on his eyebrows almost perfectly matching the color of his all white suit; his eyes squinting behind a rounded pair of almost too small spectacles. She let out a gasp. “It’s the Colonel!” Her voice was a low whisper.

“The Colonel? You said he’s not supposed to be here until seven!”

“ I know….!”

THUNK THUNK THUNK!

“MELINDA, I SAY, MELLY! I KNOW YOUR MAMA DIDN’T RAISE YOU TO BE A POOR HOSTESS! I SAID, I SAY, I SAID THAT I’D BE HERE BY SEVEN AND MY OL’ POCKET WATCH SAYS IT IS SEVEN ON THE DOT!” The last three words were punctuated with a brisk but thunderous tapping on the door.

With a whoosh, Melinda closed the curtains completely shut. “His pocket watch!”

“What about it?” Bo was so confused.

“The Colonel lives on the East Coast.”

“So?”

“He doesn’t understand time zones!”

“HE DOESN’T UNDERSTAND TIME ZO-?” The pacifier was popped back into Bo’s mouth before his whiny yelp of a question could even be finished.

Holding the rubber bulb in place with her trunk, Melinda held up a finger to her lips. Her voice was now a tense hiss of a whisper. “Will you be quiet?”

“NOW, I KNOW, I SAY I KNOW I HEARD SOMETHIN’!”

His fingers restricted by big baby blue mittens, Bo started pawing at the front of the diaper. Alas, he couldn’t so much as grip the tapes.

Melinda glanced down at her husband’s waist. “What are you doing?”

“I takin off da diafer.” Another round of pounding on the doors punctuated Melinda’s confused look. Bo let the pacifier drop. “I’m taking off the diaper. We need a new plan.”

Again, the pacifier was shoved back into the wolf’s mouth. “We do not need a new plan. This is a good plan. We’re sticking to it.” Melinda stared, unblinkingly, into her husband’s eyes. Bo whined a little, but looked away. Tail between his legs, he started waddling towards their bedroom. He hadn’t realized just how hard it would be to walk in one of these things.

“I DIDN’T, I SAY, I DIDN’T WANT TO DO THIS, MELLY. BUT IF YOU DON’T, I SAY IF YOU DON’T LET ME IN BY THE TIME I COUNT TO THREE, I’M A CUTTIN’ YOU OUT OF THE WILL!”

A hand yanked Bo backwards by the arm, and whirled him back around. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To the bedroom. I’m supposed to be sleeping, remember?”

“ONE!”

“You can’t be in bed! It’s only four! That’s way too early, even for a one-year-old!”

“He thinks it’s seven!”

“TWO!”

Melinda’s eyes narrowed. “Just because Colonel Kent doesn’t understand time zones, doesn’t mean we don’t!”

“Then where am I supposed to be? This wasn’t the plan!”

“THR-!“

The door opened to Colonel Kent just then. Waiting on the other side of the threshold was, of course his darling niece, Melinda. Riding on her hip, legs wrapped almost all the way around her waist, was a rather bashful and embarrassed looking baby ‘elephant’, sucking on his pacifier.

The Colonel stepped in. “Well, well, well, now that’s more like it!” He and Melinda entwined trunks in greeting. “Melinda, darlin’ how are, I say, how are you?”

“I’m fine. Sorry about the wait. I was just getting the baby up from his nap. ” Melinda was all big toothy, nervous smiles, her eyes looking nervously to her so-called-baby. Bo was all reproachful stares and resentment. “How are you, Uncle Kent?”

“Oh, ‘Uncle Kent’, is so formal, Melly. Please, call me ‘Colonel’!” The older elephant laughed at his own joke. “Besides, you don’t, I say you don’t want the baby to get confused about who you’re talkin’ to, do ya?” He laid eyes on Bo and adjusted his glasses. “Speakin’ of which…” Bo felt a kind of panic rising in his chest. “This must be ‘lil Kent!”

Bo felt a sigh of relief as his wife exhaled. Pacifier still in his mouth, he smiled as The Colonel reached over and jostled the fake ear flap tied to Bo’s baby bonnet. “Oh he’s such a big boy! Yes he is! Yes he is!” The hat started to wiggle uncomfortably, and without thinking, the wolf swatted away his in-law’s hand.

Melinda’s trunk smacked Bo’s thigh just hard enough to make him wince. “Lil’ Kent! Bad baby! No hit the Colonel! You know better!” He started to growl, but a warning look from his ‘Mommy’ made him think better of it.

The Colonel just chuckled. “Oh it’s all, I say, it’s all right, Melinda m’dear. Just means the boy’s a fighter. Ain’t ya, Lil’ Kent?” A big gray hand reached out to pinch “Lil’ Kent’s” cheeks; this time he did not flinch or swat at it. “You gonna join the army when you grow up? You gonna be a fighter just like your ol’ Uncle? You gonna join the army? You gonna be a ‘Lil Colonel’ too?” It was all Bo could do to grit his teeth as his check was flapped around. “A WUJIE-WUJIE! A WUJIE-WUJIE-WOO!”

Mercifully, Melinda broke the Colonel’s death grip on Bo’s cheek and stepped back. “Uncle Ken-!”

“COLONEL! We don’t want to be confusin’ the boy!”

“You do realize that you’re only a Colonel in Kentucky, right?“

“Only, I say, only because there weren’t any good wars to fight when I was of age. But I am a fighter, have no doubt about that, dear Melly.”

“Whatever you say, Colonel.” Melinda gestured for him to step further into the house. “Now please, come on in and close the door. You’re letting the air conditioning out.”

From behind his trunk, the Colonel wriggled his big bushy mustache. “Ah, but I brought a surprise for you, Melinda, dear. Or rather, I say, or rather a surprise for Lil’ Kent.” He turned his head back around towards the outside. “BRING IT ALL ON IN, BOYS!”

Past the Colonel, clad in navy blue jumpsuits, was a seemingly endless parade of horses, donkeys, and mules. But the pack animals did not come alone, no. In ones, twos, and threes, they were hoisting and carrying baby furniture; baby furniture which was obviously intended for a rather large baby.

“Uncle Kent…Colonel…what is all this?” Boxes of toys, a tricycle, and a highchair all made their way past the trio. A couple of jackasses were busy setting up the rigging for an oversized bouncer in the living room, their blinders keeping them heedless to the comings and goings of their peers.

Bo cocked his head as his eyes tracked some kind of fancy looking close-lidded trash can. Unable to speak, lest he give the game away, he could only point a mitten encased hand at the hefty plastic cylinder being carted by with the words ‘In case of accident’ stenciled on the side.

The hefty shelf with the padded top that followed was a clue…but the boxes and boxes of diapers being carted in on a dolly was the real clincher. A changing table…a diaper pail…and diapers…all of them big enough to service Bo. They weren’t going into he and Melinda’s room either, but the spare “Guest Room” that the newlyweds hadn’t had time to decorate yet. It was being decorated now, that’s for sure.

The Colonel must have taken Bo’s shock for a giddy delight. He smiled and gave Bo another rough cheek-flapping pinch before looking to Melinda. “Well I couldn’t, I say, I couldn’t help but notice in all of the pictures you posted on the interwebs of your new home, that you were in short supply…baby supplies, that is. So I decided to help out and bring all of your old baby furniture in. I sprung for a fresh coat of blue paint, and a couple of boxes of Calfies of course. There’s frugal and bein’ good with money, and then there’s bein’ cheap.”

Both of them noticed the bars of an elephantine sized crib pass by. Melinda tried to stop things from going too far, as if she wasn’t already too late. “Oh, that’s really not necessary. Bo- I mean Lil’ Kent and I co-sleep. It’s the newest trend.”

By the time Melinda finished talking, the old pachyderm had already turned his back to newlywed Graysons and was continuing to direct his impromptu work crew. “No, not that room, fellas, the baby’s room. The baby’s room!” He turned to face them again. “Melly, my dear niece. There’s ‘frugal’, and then there’s livin’ poor! I don’t want you losin’ sleep on account of you frettin’ about rollin’ over and squashin’ poor Lil’ Kent. A boy his age needs a crib to sleep in, anyways. He’s not a newborn.” He turned his back again. “Besides, I’m sure by now he’s leaked on you more than once. It might be nice for you to wake up in a dry bed.”

“LEAKED?!” The pacifier was in the young pup’s…err….wolf’s mouth before the ribbon even went taught. Melinda’s hand clamped tightly over his muzzle, eliciting a whine.

Colonel Kent spun around. “Em, What was that?”

Hand still clamping over Bo’s mouth, Melinda gave her uncle a nervous chuckle. “I said that ‘Lil’ Kent has never leaked on me once in his life.” Bo smiled a bit with his eyes. “His diapers are far too absorbent.” So much for that smile.

Colonel Kent seemed to wave off her concerns as the last of the supplies was unloaded, and the uninvited movers headed out as quickly and silently as they had arrived. “Whelp, time for supper.” He clapped his hands together and rubbed them eagerly. “Where the, I say, where’s the viddles?”

“It’s only four. You didn’t adjust that old pocket watch for time zones.” The younger elephant paused. “Again.”

Uncle Kent reached into his white jacket pocket and took out the expensive looking antique watch on a golden chain. “I didn’t?” He looked at the time on the watch. Then the time on kitchen stove. Then he dug into his jacket pocket and took out a smartphone and compared those. “Well, I say, well whaddya know? I guess I didn’t.” He slapped his knee and let out a big belly laugh, thinking the massive inconvenience he’d just caused was marvelously funny.

The young couple could only stare, not quite sure how to react. “Yeah…that’s a hoot all right.”

“Yes it is!” The older elephant’s thunderous laughter finally died down, and he even wiped a tear from his eye. “That also, I say, that also explains why I haven’t met the third member of your family.”

“Third member?”

“The boy’s father.” The couple’s uninvited house guest motioned over to the bedroom- Bo and Melinda’s bedroom, not the nursery he’d just created. He readjusted his spectacles and squinted hard at ‘Lil Kent.’ “Where’s the boy’s daddy, speaking of co-sleeping?” He leaned, looking at Bo, but addressing Melinda. “The uh…whittler right? Woodcarver? Not home from whittling, yet? What is he, a beaver or somethin’?” He scanned Bo’s babied body up and down. “Don’t see much beaver in you, though.” Bo received a heavy pat on his bonneted, fake-elephant-eared head. “No, he’s aaaallll elephant.”

Bo stifled a growl and continued sucking on his paci to keep quiet, nevertheless doing his best to dig his claws into Melinda’s shoulder. He was not happy. It was bad enough going through all this classist, speciesist nonsense before the wedding with Melinda’s (oddly non-accented) parents, but now he couldn’t even speak up for himself. (And if he did, he’d still be wearing a diaper and riding on his wife’s hip.)

“He’s a lumberjack, and he’s off in Canada at the moment.” It seemed his mittens were extra padded on the inside so that this claws could not penetrate; almost as if Melinda has planned on saying something that would irk her husband. “Every week he wires me…us…Lil’ Kent and I, some money.”

Once again, Uncle Kent turned his back, slowly meandering towards the kitchen. “Well who needs, I say, who needs a lumberjack when you have rich elderly relatives?”

Melinda stood up a little straighter and adjusted Bo on her hip. “Bo is a very devoted husband and he would do anything for me. Anything.” The two shared a look and nuzzled each other’s forehead.

“Well, as long as he’s not some predator, like a wolf or somethin’. Almost as bad as those lions; damn moonies.”

“UNCLE KENT!” Melinda was so shocked, she dropped Bo, his padded posterior cushioning the landing, but not his pride. Anger rising, but pacifier still in his mouth, he took to all fours, getting ready to pounce. It was only his wife’s hand on his back that made him remember that he was at home with another idiot in-law and not about to get into a bar fight. “I WILL NOT HAVE THAT KIND OF…THAT KIND OF BIGOTRY IN MY HOUSE!” Quickly, Bo backed off his haunches and put his knees to the floor, so that he was crawling. His wife had this.

The Colonel was genuinely taken aback, looking hurt as he turned back around. “Well, I say, well gosh, Melinda. I was only makin’ a little off-color humor. Nothin’ you haven’t heard before, and nothin’ your precious bundle can understand!”

Melinda put her foot down, literally, and the floor trembled with her fury. “Lil’ Kent can understand far more than you realize, and I will not tolerate anything remotely resembling that kind of talk around my baby!” She softened a bit and shot a look down at Bo. “One of the most wonderful people in the world I know happens to be a wolf.”

Melinda’s uncle paused and seemed to take this all in. “Y’know, I say, y’know what? I’m far too old to be making new enemies out of good family. And you’re right, I’m far too cultured and refined to keep talkin’ the same nonsense that my grandpappy did. I’m sorry Melinda.” Then, without prompting, he bent over and looked Bo in the eye. “I’m sorry for that too, Lil’ Kent. Will you ever forgive me?”

Both of the Grayson’s expressions softened. Bo had to resist the urge to pant.

Melinda glanced back at the Colonel. “Uncle Kent…Colonel…of course we-“

“THEN LET’S GET ON WITH THE GRUB! IT’S STILL SUPPER TIME SOMEWHERE!”

Husband and wife shared knowing, worried looks, before Melinda walked over to the kitchen. “I’ll cook.”

(After These Messages….)