Sometimes I See a Grin on My Face

by Dave Erlewine

My son shrieks Superman! as he points at the "S" on my shirt, which stands for “Savings," our bank manager’s idea. He squeals Up, up and away! as I hold out his toothbrush. I try not to picture my wife, barely a bump to her name, already in bed, milking the pregnancy. I’m Spider-Man! he yells, lightly jabbing my knee. “Brush your teeth!” I hiss, jamming the toothbrush into his hand. Sometimes, after a couple of beers, I see a grin on my face handing him that toothbrush, but it’s a thin one.


Dave Erlewine has short stories published or forthcoming in Dogzplot, Elimae, Pindeldyboz, Smokelong Quarterly, Word Riot, and a variety of other print and web literary journals.