So Mary gets home from her harrowing experience to find that Toby has already come in and made herself a cup of coffee. Rather than helping her unpack, Toby circles around her giggling. Toby is far more annoying than Hanna Dingdon.
I think that Dingdon is meant to be an anagram for nodding, because the poor woman also tends to fall asleep while driving, and perhaps when watching her grandchild.
Oh, dear - as if it weren't enough that we have to endure another exposition-fest with Toby, we're back in Mary's kitchen. I hope this one only lasts a few days - much longer than that in that perspectival chamber of horrors and I start getting the fantods...
Mary: “And after I unsuccessfully tried to make her give up driving there and then and hand over her car keys to me or immediately move out of the condo complex, Hanna Dindon, or should I say Hanna D-Doinng, went back to her car, tripped over a molehill and, like the kids say, did a face plant right there in the parking lot. Her eyesight is just fine – yeah, right!”
Toby: “Oh, dear, was she hurt?”
Mary: “I have no idea. You know, I really had to get to the store for the special oats sale. After I spent so much of my precious time trying to convince Hanna to give up life as she knows it, I was a little peeved that she had the audacity to fight back and practically ignore me.”
Toby: “I totally understand. And you are so great about knowing what’s best for people and telling them what to do!”
Mary: “Darn tootin’! No good will come of Hanna ignoring my sage advice! I predict a grave accident in the next week or three, which I will then attempt to straighten out over the following 10-16 weeks. Mark my words!”
Toby: “I’m sure you’re right. Say, Mary, you got any more coffee? My buzzy feelings are waning and I have to finish three clown paintings by tonight.”
Wouldn't it be great if instead of OATS, Mary was holding a bottle of Geritol? Or maybe a bottle of MD 20-20? Then that would explain Toby's giddiness.
Okay, so it's Saturday and here in the Real World, I went to the supermarket in the late morning. When I was leaving, driving about 5 mph in the parking lot, three different cars started to back out of their spaces. Did I leap from my auto to berate them? No, I slowed down, knowing it's hard to see someone coming when one is parked between other cars! And, as this was happening, I thought: "Overreact much, Mary?"
In the Sunday strip: Amy and Bobby have paid a surprise visit to Hanna. Bobby looks like a child from the 1950's, eager to watch the next episode of Spin and Marty on Granma's black and white 19 inch Philco. Amy is rather...well, I'll let others decide for themselves.
P.S. I am not actually up at 3am, agog with excitement. I'm in another time zone.
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So Mary gets home from her harrowing experience to find that Toby has already come in and made herself a cup of coffee. Rather than helping her unpack, Toby circles around her giggling. Toby is far more annoying than Hanna Dingdon.
I think that Dingdon is meant to be an anagram for nodding, because the poor woman also tends to fall asleep while driving, and perhaps when watching her grandchild.
Oh, dear - as if it weren't enough that we have to endure another exposition-fest with Toby, we're back in Mary's kitchen. I hope this one only lasts a few days - much longer than that in that perspectival chamber of horrors and I start getting the fantods...
Mary: “And after I unsuccessfully tried to make her give up driving there and then and hand over her car keys to me or immediately move out of the condo complex, Hanna Dindon, or should I say Hanna D-Doinng, went back to her car, tripped over a molehill and, like the kids say, did a face plant right there in the parking lot. Her eyesight is just fine – yeah, right!”
Toby: “Oh, dear, was she hurt?”
Mary: “I have no idea. You know, I really had to get to the store for the special oats sale. After I spent so much of my precious time trying to convince Hanna to give up life as she knows it, I was a little peeved that she had the audacity to fight back and practically ignore me.”
Toby: “I totally understand. And you are so great about knowing what’s best for people and telling them what to do!”
Mary: “Darn tootin’! No good will come of Hanna ignoring my sage advice! I predict a grave accident in the next week or three, which I will then attempt to straighten out over the following 10-16 weeks. Mark my words!”
Toby: “I’m sure you’re right. Say, Mary, you got any more coffee? My buzzy feelings are waning and I have to finish three clown paintings by tonight.”
It's always great to be in Mary's M.C. Escher designed kitchen. Toby is simply giddy with glee--or perhaps it's spatial disorientation.
YAY! We get to chat with Toby Cameron again. I lover her!
Wouldn't it be great if instead of OATS, Mary was holding a bottle of Geritol? Or maybe a bottle of MD 20-20? Then that would explain Toby's giddiness.
Oops! I meant "I love her," of course.
Now Mary is going to tell Toby all about Hanna Dingdon(g). Who names these characters?
One wag has already noted that Mary is "feeling her oats." Wish I'd thought of it first!
Okay, so it's Saturday and here in the Real World, I went to the supermarket in the late morning. When I was leaving, driving about 5 mph in the parking lot, three different cars started to back out of their spaces. Did I leap from my auto to berate them? No, I slowed down, knowing it's hard to see someone coming when one is parked between other cars! And, as this was happening, I thought: "Overreact much, Mary?"
In the Sunday strip: Amy and Bobby have paid a surprise visit to Hanna. Bobby looks like a child from the 1950's, eager to watch the next episode of Spin and Marty on Granma's black and white 19 inch Philco. Amy is rather...well, I'll let others decide for themselves.
P.S. I am not actually up at 3am, agog with excitement. I'm in another time zone.
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