Jimmy Smith Has a Dinosaur

"Moooooommmmm! Pleeeeease?"

"No, Billy, you can't have one."

Billy's mom picked up another plate, one of the chipped ones, and started wiping it dry with quick, almost-savage strokes of the dishtowel. She knew what was coming next.

"But why, Mom?" argued Billy. "Jimmy Smith has a dinosaur!"

Billy's mom sighed. Put the plate in the cupboard, reached for another, began wiping it dry. "If Jimmy Smith's parents choose to let him have a dinosaur, that is their decision and they can afford to do so. Me, I really don't think it's proper to let a child have that kind of a pet."

Even if it is "just a micro-sized plant-eater" like that Amelia said.

"But, Moooooommmmm!"

"Don't 'but Mom!' me!" Billy's mom spat. "No dinosaur and that is final!"

Billy scuffed a sneaker-clad foot against a crack in the kitchen linoleum. "'S not fair. Jimmy Smith gets to have a dinosaur, he gets to ride around on his own SeaSkidoo, gets to learn kickboxing with Jackie Chan's clone, go to Mars for summer holidays, to--"

"Oh, for pity's sake!" Billy's mom cried in exasperation. "If Jimmy Smith got permission to jump off a cliff, would you want to go too?"

Blessed silence followed. For a moment. Then...

"Jimmy Smith has a jetpack."