Everything has its shitty aspects. Right? That’s what I keep telling myself. Even having a hybrid child with an alien, though perfect at first, is now proving to have its difficulties.
At least I have these protein balls to keep me distracted. The protein balls taste like s’mores, but richer and less sticky. I’ve really taken a liking to the alien cuisine on this planet.
I lift my chin up at the two bloody full moons overseeing the alien village. I’m not the only human here with hybrid offspring, but I seem to be taking it the hardest.
It’s like no matter what I do, how many hi-tech toys I give him, how many goofy songs I sing. Our son finds a way to make me feel inadequate. He’s been the only hybrid alien receiving bad marks in his first days at school, and it’s embarrassing. I’ve been working hard to reach him the customary behaviors ever since he was born.
I try to explain things to Koff, my alien husband, but he rarely gets it.
“You know it’s not your fault Jez,” Koff says, his big green claws massaging my right shoulder.
A gentle fire dances before me, and I continue to stoke it as I take in his warm words. They would mean so much more if I didn’t have to face the same old bullshit everyday.
“His development, It makes me…” my lip quivers. The stick is starting to slip in my sweaty hands.
“What, my love?” Koff sits down beside me. I can’t make myself look at him, but his big, rough green hand slides gently under my chin, lifting my eyes up to his. “Tell me. Jez. My human mate, what is paining you so much about raising our seed?”
I swallow. “He’s not like the others. He’s not catching on to the customs.”
“I see.” Koff pulls me closer, his body heat warms me. I can feel the center of his body jiggle. He throws his head back and his long purple braids shake in the cool night breeze.
I furrow my brows, but then I realize his laughter is like some sort of an emotional massage and I can’t help but giggle too.
“What are you laughing, Koff?”
“You. Because you always do this, Jez.”
“Do what? Do not make me out to be a—“
“Drama Queen?” he grunts. His dark eyebrows raise. “You’ve admitted it yourself before!”
I cross my arms. He isn’t wrong. “That was one time that I said that! Once!” And I regret it so much. Why did I call myself something like that? A drama Queen. Ick.
“Look, honestly, I think all you humans can be drama queens,” he says. “It’s en-deering. Isn’t that what you call it?”
I smile at his odd pronunciation. “Yes, the word is endearing.”
“I know our son is difficult,” he says. “I get it. He’s a lot like me. But Jez babe, don’t give up. You are the glue that keeps our family together. We need you. We don’t mean to be a pain in your arse.”
I sniffle and line the stick with more of the sweet round protein balls. I hold it over the steady dancing fire.
“Doesn’t seem that way to me.”
“No?” he grunts.
“No, it seems like you and the little guy have it out for me. You deliberately test my patience. The never listening to what I say, the tantrums, you both completely ignore all of the cleaning I do in the hut and you leave it trashed…”
“Stop, Jez.” He grabs my shoulders and nudges my body to face him. “I get it. We do suck.”
I blow out a hard breath. For some reason it does help to hear him admit it. I hate that him merely agreeing with me melts my heart yet again.
“You have to trust that we don’t do it on purpose, okay?” My alien huffs. “Reach down deep in yourself and remember the version of me you fell in love with. I know you remember it.”
He’s right. I do. I love him because of his quirks, his oddness. The way he always laughs when I’m busy crying and complaining about something. It’s what attracted me to him, and here I am grilling him for it. I look up at the sky again.
“We will do better,” Koff says. “I’ll help out more with our seed okay? I will do anything for you, Jez. You are my one and only mate…the only one I want.”
The intention is his deep set eyes shows me he really means it. I know my big alien loves me. I love him too.
Even though sometimes, he really sucks.
Thanks for reading!