No one’s really excited for New Year’s anymore. I don’t even know if we’re going to go out.
I haven’t heard anything about the thing in New York yet, and it’s coming up in a few months. There are rumors that they called it off because it would be too upsetting and might cause rioting.
In other news, Toby really upset mom today. He asked her where he was going when the meteor hit.
“What do you mean, sweetie?”
“Well, we’re...” He stared at the ground and put his finger on his bottom lip, trying to enunciate the proper words.
“Don’t do that, sweetie. You’ll get germs in your mouth.”
“Sorry. But... Mommy?”
“Yeah?”
“Where are we going when the... Thingy hits?”
“Meteor, sweetie. It’s a meteor.”
“What’s that mean?”
I piped in and said “Big-ass rock,” and my mom shot me a glare.
“What’s a ‘big-ass rock?’”
“Nothing, Toby. But what do you mean, ‘where are we going?’”
He stared at her and his lip trembled.
“We’re... We’re not going to stay here, are we mommy?”
She hugged him and stroked his back.
“Oh, sweetie. We have to. We can’t leave.”
“But... But... The big-ass rock!”
“I know, sweetie. The big-ass rock is coming.”
He started to cry and mom kept holding him.
“How do we get away from it?”
“We can’t, Toby. But it’s okay! We’re all here, right? You’re with mommy, and daddy, and sissy, and grandma. Everyone’s here!”
“But... The big-ass rock!”
She stroked his back again.
“I know. The big-ass rock.”