Just Me 'an Old Timer

Red and I are spending a quiet day at home. Unable to find childcare while my husband attends an adjunct�s pre-semester English Department meeting, I have taken a sick day and I putter in almost darkness as the clouds gather and turn black in the sky. Rain is imminent. I had considered taking Red out for a stroll before the rain falls but she�s, for once, happily playing by herself with two large puzzle pieces and the hideous frilly collar I ripped off an otherwise acceptable velvet outfit that she may wear this fall for our annual Santa visit. I know better than to mess up this bit of good luck.

Red is both adorable and infuriating in turns these days. She jabbers non-stop at such a volume that it�s impossible to watch anything on television where the characters talk at normal levels � Sherlock Holmes, Ghost Hunters, things without a laugh track. She doesn�t go to sleep, despite all our valiant efforts, until 11:00pm so my plans to subscribe to Netflix are scrapped until that glorious time in the future when I have both kids in bed at 9:00pm. Sometime around the next century.

But, she�s got a winning smile and wicked sense of humor and a sharp mind. She�s only got two more days to spend at the sitter�s and then I start shelling out wads of cash I don�t have to put her in a more appropriate place three days a week.

Yesterday when I dropped her off, the sitter pulled out some horrendous teddy bear toy thing that tells stories when you press one of it�s paws. Sort of a fourth-rate Teddy Ruxpin. There are numbers on each of the pads on the bottom of its feet. She pressed #1 and here�s what it said: �Once upon a time, a duck gave birth to six baby ducks.�

Say what? Correct me if I�m wrong, but I�m pretty sure ducks lay eggs. Which then hatch. Ducks are not mammals and so do not �give birth� to their young. Unless I�ve taken a wrong turn and ended up in Bizarro World.

So, not only is the sitter � who I now hate (but what�s new; I�ve got immense stores of hate for so many) � own another dreadful battery operated talking monstrosity of a toy, but it�s giving out false information. Great.

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Over the weekend I decided, on a whim, to enter a local short story contest. I have not written a short story in probably five years. Basically because only novels sell and I�ve been writing and rewriting a novel since Dusty�s birth (who is a mammal). So, I dug through some old stories and found one that might have a chance, if I rewrote it and winnowed it down to 2,000 words. I think I�ve been successful but I�m usually wrong about most things. If you�d like to read it and tell me what you think, let me know. I�ll send it to you.

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Red�s new �home name� is Old Timer. This comes from a book Dusty and I have just finished, �Hello, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle� by Betty MacDonald. If you�ve never read a Piggle-Wiggle book, I strongly suggest you find one. They are comedy gems. In the last story, about Harbin Quadrangle and his slowness, which Mrs. P cures, the family�s baby is known as Old Timer. This cracked us up and Dusty and I laughed and laughed. And rechristened Red with this moniker. I mean, how funny is that?

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