Thursday, January 11, 2007

And now a bedtime story

As you know, Ken is working in a temp position and, well, he was rather bored today. So being the good wife that I am, I suggested that he write a short story for me to read later. You know, something to keep him busy, nothing too involved. I provided a topic...Suki (our dog)...and our baby (not yet conceived)...and well here it is, hope you enjoy it as much as I did...I actually laughed out loud...

I was walking Suki this morning when we ran into little Vicky. (I call her “little Vicky” because the name Vicky and I have picked out for our baby is a carefully kept secret – lest someone steal it….)

Little Vicky was time traveling from 2015, a time when people regularly do such things (in, at least, an alternate universe), and she appeared from behind one of our neighbor’s apartments with a blinding flash.

It didn’t bother me. As far as I knew, I was just hallucinating again.

“And who,” I asked, “are you?”

“My name is Vicky,” she replied without compunction, “and I’m traveling from the future.”

“Great,” I said – and by this time I was sure I was hallucinating. “Do I know you?”

“Not yet.”

“I could have told you that.”

At this point, Suki had grown interested in the little girl and, just like she always does, walked up to her and stood ready for attention. Little Vicky complied – we humans are powerless. “Is this Suki?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“She looks just like our Suki – I guess that’s why mommy named her that.”

“Who?”

“Mommy.”

“Excuse me. I need to go get a very large drink.”

“Oh. Right. You probably still drink during this time.”

“Probably,” I told her. “Want proof?”

“That’s a pun!” she exclaimed.

“Pardon?”

“What you just said. It’s a pun.”

I squinted, trying not to appear too annoyed. “Little girl. Let go of my dog.”

“She’s my dog, too.”

“No, she’s not.”

“Yes, she is. Mommy let me keep her! She’s in my room! Stuffed!”

“Ewwww…. Don’t tell Vicky that.”

“She already knows.”

“Not now, she doesn’t.”

“No, but she does later.”

As much as I like word games, this sounded like something I’d write. “You mean she will later.”

“Right.”

Now, I wanted a cigarette, a martini, and several hits from a hash pipe. “Am I hallucinating you? Or are you real?” Her hair was long and straight like Vicky’s and she was also a girl, just like her mom. But she and I had nothing in common.

“Yes and No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I am real but I’m not presently –“

“Stop,” I told her. “Enough.”

“You hate it when other people do that to you but you have no problem doing it to others.”

“That’s because I’m good at it,” I said. “You only have the benefit of having traveled through time… wait a minute. What do you mean, she’s like your Suki?”

Little Vicky was, by this time, sitting in the grass, with Suki on her lap… she put her there. “Mommy names every dog Suki.”

“And does she name every cat Harley?” I asked with a grin.

“No. Harley’s still alive. She’s just very, very old.”

“Great.” I wasn’t overly fond of the image of owning the world’s oldest cat. “I guess I am, too, huh? And fat?”

“No. You’re thin when you’re old. But you lost all of your hair – I mean ALL of it – in a freak video game playing accident.”

“Well, that’s nice to know. How’s your mom?”

“She’s much taller in my time. She had a problem losing weight so she gained height. They can do that in my time.”

“Really? How tall am I in your time?”

“Ten foot six.”

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