Custody

It was his weekend with the kid, so Friday after work Jayar stopped by the
store and bought a toy car.
Next day, when Jayar gave his boy the car, the kid wrapped his arms
around him and said, ‘This is the bestest thing, Pop.’
Jayar went to the fridge. He carried a six-pack to the sofa and sat.
Sipping his beer, he was hypnotized by the way the kid, down on all fours,
played quietly.
By the time Jayar popped the tab of his fourth beer, though, the boy
was on his feet, racing the car over a shelf that held Jayar's collection of
porcelain clowns.
‘Careful,’ Jayar slurred.
But the kid wasn't listening. He guided the car like a bowling ball into
the clowns, toppling them.
Picking up a full can of beer, Jayar stood. He hurled it, barely missing
his son. ‘Better not have broke one of my clowns!’
The boy gave Jayar the finger.
In a flash, Jayar had his son's collar. He drew his fist back.
The kid smirked. ‘Mom hoped you'd do this.’
Later at the pizza parlour, the kid said, ‘Next week I want a new
video game.’