Monday, December 7, 2009


JULIUS:  What is it, Grammy?

GRAMMY:  It’s a slingshot.  And not some rinky-dink little toy, either.  This is the real deal.  You could bring down a deer with this if you knew what you were doing.

JULIUS:  I don’t want to hurt a deer.

GRAMMY:  I’m not telling you to.  Take a few empty whisky bottles from my recycle bin.  You can practice shooting at them in the back yard.  And take these goggles.  If you take an eye out, I’ll have to listen to your mother for the rest of my life, and I’ve got better things to do before I die.

JULIUS:  Thanks, Grammy!

GRAMMY:  You’re welcome.  And there’s ice cream for dessert if you can miss the whiskey bottles and accidentally bean Mr. Muddle's dog, if you get my drift.  A good knock in the head should shut that thing up for a minute or two.  Now go on out and have some fun.

(Julius leaves)

GRAMMY:  Well, that should occupy him for a few hours.

JULIUS:  Grammy!  Grammy!  Come look!  I got it!  On the first shot!

GRAMMY:  Well I’ll be . . . . Looks like you got some of your great-grampy's blood after all.  Now wasn’t that fun?

Photo:  Tom Robinson

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Diane Mayr said...

Bad, Barbara, bad! Shame on you! It's either dog murder or glass all over the place--either way, that's bad!

Barbara said...

Repeat after me, Diane -

It's only make believe. It's only make believe.