“Mmm…!” Dora’s mouth was so full with the last bite of chocolate cake that a few precious crumbs were tumbling down her Hello Kitty! T-shirt and over the small slope of her stuffed stomach to land with other evidence of her thievery upon the lap of her white shorts, staining them with brown streaks as she picked at the bigger pieces and licked her fingers clean. Her lips were caked with splotches of chocolate frosting as she diligently went to work chewing her last mouthful before swallowing it down with her tummy visible swelling just the slightest bit. The cake was once a double-layered piece of chocolate perfection roughly twelve inches in diameter. Now, it was nothing but a pile of crumbs on an empty plate and on the not-so-empty stomach of an eleven-year old girl. Dora licked her lips clean of the frosting, using her fingers to swipe away the rest before she patted her tummy with a pleased smile.
“That was the best chocolate cake I’ve ever had! Thanks for saving it for me, Bug!”
That hated nickname flew right over your head because you could hardly believe your eyes. How on earth had she managed to eat the entire cake so quickly? No, better yet, why hadn’t she immediately started growing after the first bite just as you had last summer?
Her bare feet dangled off her chair, her toes lightly touching upon the straps of her mother’s sandals, which had likely fallen free from her feet before the start of her afternoon snack. Likely “borrowed” from her mother’s room, they were a pair of platforms that would give their wearer an extra four inches to their overall height. Sliding forward on her seat, Dora placed her feet back into her mother’s slip-ons and rose to her full stature, surprising you yet again.
Despite wearing her mother’s platform sandals and being only a year younger than you, Dora was still a half-a-head shorter than you. She started walking and she made all of two steps before she tripped and fell flat on her face, the sandals flying free from her feet and landing far and away from the girl whose feet were frankly still too small to keep their straps tight.
You winced, knowing what was to come.
Drippy Dora had nothing to do with a snotty nose or a salivating mouth. Dora earned the nickname, which was never spoken when she could hear it lest she live up to it, by the fact that she was a tremendous crybaby in every sense of the word. There they were now as she slowly sat upright with slightly skinned knees but otherwise none the worse for wear. She sniffled loudly, her eyes watering and open her mouth wide to unleash the first wave of wails—
Grumble…
You blinked and took a step back from your younger cousin. “What… was that?”
Dora appeared just as startled as you and her voice wavered as she spoke, “I-I th-think that wa-was…”
Gurgle…
It was Dora’s turn to blink with twin tears falling down her face as she looked down at the culprit, placing a hesitant hand upon it. “My tu-tummy…”
You took another step back wondering what that meant for Dora.
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