A Very Short Story At 4:00 In The Morning

It's beyond Lovey's bedtime and we're just getting in from an afternoon at Disneyland, takeout from Taco Bell in my hand, we sit down on the couch and I find a movie for us to watch, I open up a box and remove my plastic fork from its plastic bag and slice off a bite of food, lifting it up to my mouth when I hear a panicked "Daddy! I didn't check it for poison!" so I hand the fork to him and he takes a bite, chewing slowly, holding his hand up to make me wait, chewing, chewing til finally he nods and I take a bite myself. I unwrap his quesadilla while he sits next to me patiently and I bite into his food, chewing, swallowing, until suddenly I hold my breath, roll my eyes back into my head, and fall backwards into the couch, mouth open, unchewed fast food still in my mouth. Lovey looks at me, laughing, and then I sit up and say, "False alarm, it's okay," and he starts eating.

Check it for poison, I think to myself. Three hours ago a girl has told me that "you're a nice guy, but..." This is the poison I need him to check for.