Friday, December 18, 2009


GRAMMY:  Well, look who’s here.  What happened?  Your new boyfriend busy?

ME:  I’m sorry, Grammy.  But I couldn’t tell you the truth with Julius standing right there.  It didn’t have anything to do with Alfie.  It’s that Typhus.  I don’t want Julius hanging around with him.  He’s a bad influence.  And Julius says he’s sixteen.  Why isn’t he hanging around with friends his own age?

GRAMMY:  How the hell do I know?  I’m not a damn mind-reader.

ME:  Why do you even bother with someone like him?

GRAMMY:  He’s a good kid, Barbara. In his own way.

ME:  Well, his way isn’t my way, and I don’t want it to be Julius’ way.

GRAMMY:  Too late.

ME:  What do you mean ‘too late?’

GRAMMY:  (pointing out the window)  Because there he goes. With Typhus. And his slingshot.

ME:  Julius?  Come back here, Julius!  Oh, this is all your fault, Grammy!

GRAMMY:  Calm down, Barbara.  With any luck, they’ll each rub off on the other and balance themselves out.  And if they don’t . . . well, you might want to find out where the local juvenile hall is.

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1 comment:

I'm Jet . . . said...

Uh oh.

WV is cuddle . . . as in there's nothing like boys with guns to cuddle up to.