Gladys escorted her guests towards her basement, explaining her personal motto: "In this house, we work hard, and we--"
"Play hard?" one of the boys interrupted.
"No," Gladys smiled as she descended the staircase, displaying the basement with a sweeping arm. "We work hard, and we eat hard."
In the very center of the basement, there was a table piled high with pizza boxes, potato chips, pints of ice cream, pies, and presumably products whose names were not preceded by the letter "P," as well.
Peanuts... no, that also starts with P.
This went over much better than Emma's selfie stick party idea, and soon everyone had found a seat on a sofa or a chair, a plate on each of their laps that was piled high with food.
It was almost as though Gladys wasn't even hosting anything. Everyone was just sitting and eating and talking about whatever came to mind, and Gladys just watched as an almost maternal pleasure arose within her at the knowledge that she was feeding these boys. Boys who were so very clearly hungry.
"What is that, a tomato?" one guest asked, pointing at a dark orange, tomato-shaped food item on his neighbor's plate.
"What? No," came the reply. "It's a persimmon."
I swear, there was food at this party which did not start with the letter P. Yeah, I know I'm supposed to be like this faceless, nameless narrator, but I am vexed here. Legitimately vexed. Why does all of this food start with P?
"Food is fuel," Gladys said as one of her guests sheepishly glanced at the table, obviously considering filling up a third plate. "If it feels like your body needs it, then your body needs it. As long as you lead an active lifestyle and listen to your body's needs, you shouldn't deny yourself."
"Yeah, I know," the boy replied. "But lately it feels like anything I eat just goes..." he trailed off as he self consciously hunched over his knees.
"You're among friends, here," Gladys gave him a warm smile.
"It just feels like anything I eat just goes straight to my boobs!" The boy sat back up at this and motioned towards the twin swells that tented the top of his T-shirt.
The other boys nodded and murmured in agreement, each sitting up straighter and motioning towards their own swollen chests.
"See?" Gladys smiled. "We're all going through the same thing. You're among friends here."
