Christmas Story 3 of 12

I pushed Gareth’s buggy onto the bus and paid for my ticket.
The bus wasn’t as packed as it usually is so I had no problem getting a seat and a space for Gareth.
Looking around the bus I saw a few faces I recognised. The woman on the phone always seemed quite relaxed, especially compared the guy who smelled funny and muttered to himself. Gareth doesn’t like him at all.
“I see El-Stinko is on the bus today.”
“Ssshhh Gareth! Not so loud.”
“Well excuse me. I thought we had a free speech in this country.”
Gareth is, as you might have guessed, an unusual baby. You’ve probably met people that even when young seem to have been born old? Well Gareth has the mind of a dirty 40 year old and weirdly the vocabulary too.
Gareth’s role model seems to be Baby Herman from Who Framed Roger Rabbit? I refuse to give him a cigar however, he may be a foul mouthed vile one year old, but I’ve got to draw the line at some point.
“There may be free speech, but there’s also politeness, Gareth.”
“Yak yak yak. Hey, the broad on the phone’s hot!”
“Oh, pipe down little man. It’s not like you can do anything about it.”
“Don’t remind me. You wouldn’t believe the looks I get in strip joints.”
I had to laugh at that.
“Yeah, I can just imagine you now, jumping up and down at the bar hoping to be seen.”
“Hey don’t knock my stature, it gives me a great view of some things, thank you very much.”
“Ewww, Gareth.”
“What? I didn’t mean nothing by it.”
“You know what you should get, one of those man suits.”
“What man suits?”
“You know, like in Pinky and the Brain.”
“Oh yeah, big robot body, teeny little mouse head.”
“Or in your case, teeny little baby head.”
"My head’s big enough thank you.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I never figure how people are convinced by that, who knows a guy with a normal body and a tiny head?”
“It’s called comedy, for a baby you’re way too critical of cartoons.”
“I can never be too critical of cartoons. Anyway, I’d like for us to get off at the next stop. It’s a bit chilly on this bus. And I don’t like the idea of that ghost touching me.”
“Ok, we’re nearly home anyway.” I hesitated. “What ghost?”
“Never mind woman, you never pay attention to anything I say.”
I pushed the buggy off the bus into the cold air.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”