"I've got an idea, babe. Why don't you offer a nice juicy reward? Say maybe five large. We can put up a bunch of posters at the edge of the forest." (Meanwhile, she's thinking she can get her dad, recently released from prison, to "find" the watch and split the reward with her.)
Yahoonski, I like the way you think. (I hope things are going well for you, too.)
Where are details and flashbacks to some of Drew’s legion of screw ups? That would be way more interesting than this boardwalk conversation. I doubt we’ll get any details about the late Mrs. Cory. I expect she’s consigned to KM’s collection of unseen sainted women who aspired to be as wise and wonderful as Mary Worth but who died trying.
"I'm sorry you lost your watch, babe. Now, did you email those photos to all the top agencies, agents, and talent scouts like I told you to? And it couldn't hurt to hit the major Hollywood producers and TV execs. You can show me your report when you take me out to dinner tomorrow night. We might as well have lunch too."
Notice how she hasn't offered to go back and look for it?
My son once dropped his binky while we walked a local trail. I had one one those baby backpacks. Great things. Anyways, guess who re-ran the whole trail to find that pacifier?
I guess I am saying that a binky to keep your infant quiet is WAY more important than a Rolex.
Drew: Yeah, they didn’t call me Screwie Drewie for nothing.
Even before I was born, I was making life tough for Mom. She was 11 months along before I finally made my appearance at 14 lbs. Ha! Dad told me her eyes didn’t go back into her head for close to a year.
I guess I was a little stubborn about letting Mom potty train me. I don’t know though; the carpets and wallpaper probably needed replacing at that point anyway.
Mom used to tell me all the fun stuff I would do to my little playmates. Funny; they never seemed to stay around for very long. I really missed my best pal, Tommy. I probably shouldn’t have knocked his teeth out and stuffed them into his ears.
When I got a little older, Mom encouraged me to get into all kinds of sports. Skateboarding was so much fun, especially when Mom would lie down and let me use her as a half-pipe. I felt sort of bad about her having to get around in a wheelchair after that but she told me it was a good way to avoid Dad. I’m not quite sure what she meant by that.
She thought it was great when I learned to ski. She’d sit at the bottom of the slope in her chair, huddled up in her blankets. She loved to watch me shush by her, waving my arms. Well, until the day I got just a teeny bit too close with my ski pole. But she seemed to get along fine with just one eye.
Mom was the one who taught me to drive. She was such fun. She’d scoot along next to my car in her wheelchair, pretending it was a car so I would get the feel of traffic before actually venturing out onto the highways. Once, she even tried to pass me in the driveway! I’m afraid I was a typical hotheaded teenager though. You wouldn’t believe the damage a Ford Bronco can do on a wheelchair. Hoo boy…
Actually, I even owe my career to my Mom. But she reassured me that it was worth spending her entire inheritance to buy SATs that would get me into the prestigious Santa Royale School of Medicine.
I felt really bad when she died. I know I shouldn’t have spent my entire teens and early 20’s drinking hard liquor but you know how it is. What young person ever thinks that they’ll destroy both kidneys before the age of 25? I told her I only needed one of hers but that was Mom; she was insistent, so what could I do, right?
Thank you, HelenClark for filling the gulf of storylessness that exists in this plot, its blandness illustrated further by the twin mauve outfits of Ashlee and Drew.
HelenClark, I extend my immense gratitude to you for cataloging Screwie Drewie’s (!) legion of calamities AND filling us in about the late Mrs. C. in one post. You have outdone yourself! (I was going to add that you’ve outdone KM, but that bar is so low, it’s scraping the boardwalk.)
LouiseF, I noticed the matchy-matchy mauve outfits too. Eeesh....
Don't be shy! I'd love to hear what you have to say about Mary Worth. Just keep it clean, that's all I ask. This is a FAMILY FRIENDLY blog. I don't want to moderate comments, but I will if I have to.
"I've got an idea, babe. Why don't you offer a nice juicy reward? Say maybe five large. We can put up a bunch of posters at the edge of the forest." (Meanwhile, she's thinking she can get her dad, recently released from prison, to "find" the watch and split the reward with her.)
ReplyDeleteToday's Boldface Haiku is titled
ReplyDelete"Cool Story, Babe".
Close?
Yes...Loved.
Sorry...
Yahoonski, I like the way you think. (I hope things are going well for you, too.)
ReplyDeleteWhere are details and flashbacks to some of Drew’s legion of screw ups? That would be way more interesting than this boardwalk conversation. I doubt we’ll get any details about the late Mrs. Cory. I expect she’s consigned to KM’s collection of unseen sainted women who aspired to be as wise and wonderful as Mary Worth but who died trying.
ReplyDelete"I'm sorry you lost your watch, babe. Now, did you email those photos to all the top agencies, agents, and talent scouts like I told you to? And it couldn't hurt to hit the major Hollywood producers and TV execs. You can show me your report when you take me out to dinner tomorrow night. We might as well have lunch too."
-- Scottie McW.
Notice how she hasn't offered to go back and look for it?
ReplyDeleteMy son once dropped his binky while we walked a local trail. I had one one those baby backpacks. Great things. Anyways, guess who re-ran the whole trail to find that pacifier?
I guess I am saying that a binky to keep your infant quiet is WAY more important than a Rolex.
Drew:
ReplyDeleteYeah, they didn’t call me Screwie Drewie for nothing.
Even before I was born, I was making life tough for Mom. She was 11 months along before I finally made my appearance at 14 lbs. Ha! Dad told me her eyes didn’t go back into her head for close to a year.
I guess I was a little stubborn about letting Mom potty train me. I don’t know though; the carpets and wallpaper probably needed replacing at that point anyway.
Mom used to tell me all the fun stuff I would do to my little playmates. Funny; they never seemed to stay around for very long. I really missed my best pal, Tommy. I probably shouldn’t have knocked his teeth out and stuffed them into his ears.
When I got a little older, Mom encouraged me to get into all kinds of sports. Skateboarding was so much fun, especially when Mom would lie down and let me use her as a half-pipe. I felt sort of bad about her having to get around in a wheelchair after that but she told me it was a good way to avoid Dad. I’m not quite sure what she meant by that.
She thought it was great when I learned to ski. She’d sit at the bottom of the slope in her chair, huddled up in her blankets. She loved to watch me shush by her, waving my arms. Well, until the day I got just a teeny bit too close with my ski pole. But she seemed to get along fine with just one eye.
Mom was the one who taught me to drive. She was such fun. She’d scoot along next to my car in her wheelchair, pretending it was a car so I would get the feel of traffic before actually venturing out onto the highways. Once, she even tried to pass me in the driveway! I’m afraid I was a typical hotheaded teenager though. You wouldn’t believe the damage a Ford Bronco can do on a wheelchair. Hoo boy…
Actually, I even owe my career to my Mom. But she reassured me that it was worth spending her entire inheritance to buy SATs that would get me into the prestigious Santa Royale School of Medicine.
I felt really bad when she died. I know I shouldn’t have spent my entire teens and early 20’s drinking hard liquor but you know how it is. What young person ever thinks that they’ll destroy both kidneys before the age of 25? I told her I only needed one of hers but that was Mom; she was insistent, so what could I do, right?
Ashlee:
I’m sorry you lost your watch, Babe.
HelenClark
Thank you, HelenClark for filling the gulf of storylessness that exists in this plot, its blandness illustrated further by the twin mauve outfits of Ashlee and Drew.
ReplyDeleteHelenClark, I extend my immense gratitude to you for cataloging Screwie Drewie’s (!) legion of calamities AND filling us in about the late Mrs. C. in one post. You have outdone yourself! (I was going to add that you’ve outdone KM, but that bar is so low, it’s scraping the boardwalk.)
ReplyDeleteLouiseF, I noticed the matchy-matchy mauve outfits too. Eeesh....
LouiseF and KitKat. You are both very welcome. Glad to oblige! Now we'll have to come up with a proper name for Mrs. Cory. How about Alba?
ReplyDeleteHelenClark
Ooooh! @HelenClark.
ReplyDeletePlease, can we have her name be 'Laurie'? Or 'Carrie'? Or 'Apple'?
Eleanory Cory?
ReplyDeleteMissScarlet - I'm liking "Apple." We once had an Apple Mary. Why not an Apple Cory?
ReplyDeleteHelenClark
ReplyDeleteDrew never noticed that the maker's mark said "Rollex."
-- S. McW.