“Timmy!” My mom shouted down the hall, “why is there an alien in our bathtub?”
“Mom, don’t call him that, you know it makes him self-conscious…” I hissed through my teeth.
“Timothy Andrews, now what am I supposed to call him young man?” my momma put her hands on her hip and leveled her most stern mom eyebrow at me. “He is, after all, an alien, is he not?”
“Well, yes, but his name is Dane.” I pulled the bathroom door closed to give mom and I a buffer so Dane wouldn’t overhear us.
“Don’t you ‘yes, but’ me sir. Get in that bathroom and get Dane out of my tub. He about scared the daylights out of me and I...
Please subscribe to keep reading.