“I just gave you money yesterday, Mr. Man! Why do you need more?”
“Because that is gone, thus my need for more to replace it.”
“What could you possibly have done with it between yesterday and today?”
“Umm. I lost it.”
“Lost it? You mean like you dropped it somewhere or something?”
“No.”
“What then?”
“I don’t want to tell you. You’ll be mad.”
“No I won’t. I promise.”
“Well, you know how hard I work, right? I mean twelve hour shifts of protecting our country against terrorism is hard.”
“Honey, you know how much I appreciate what you do.”
“Well, some nights, it can get so boring…what with no terrorists showing up or anything. It can be tough trying to stay awake, so some of the guys found a way to pass the time.”
“OK.”
“Spider races.”
“Spider races?”
“Yeah. Remember how I told you we have a lot of big spiders at the nuclear power plant? Well, we race them.”
Long silence.
“You expect me to believe you actually race spiders? How is that even possible?”
“Well, you pick one up by his hind legs and set him at the start line with the other spiders and then you watch to see which one will make it to the finish line first.”
Another long silence.
“So I guess my question is this: what in the world does racing spiders have to do with needing more money today?”
“To make it more interesting, we bet on our spiders. Last night, I lost.”
“Let me get this straight. You lost our money by betting on a spider in a spider race? Is that what you are seriously telling me?”
“In my defense, I think he would have won because he was bigger than the others.”
“OK. I’ll bite. Why didn’t he win?”
“He broke his leg. I had to put him down.”
“Had to put him down, huh?”
“Yeah. I squished him.”
“Here’s twenty bucks. Pick a winner next time.”
Wrapping your kids in newspaper at bedtime seems like a good idea... but guess what? That junk's flammable.
Copyright © 2004-2006, Sherri Bailey
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1 comment:
I'm in deep doodle now, kids. The one and only Mr. Man went and opened himself a Blogger account.
I want to go on record right now as saying that Mr. Man has been known to lie, lie, lie. Don't believe a word he says.
Mr. Man is the "debil".
(Love you, Pookie.)
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