“Mom says this is her 600th post – whatever that means; I can only count up to two – and she was going to have a giveaway of some handmade soaps and this beeeyoootiful washcloth. I think she should really give it to me instead.
But, then she thought, why celebrate the amount of her babbling when she could celebrate the number of people who visit the blog instead?
Right now, she has 84 followers (so she says; 84 could be her age). She says she will have a giveaway when this blog gets 100 followers.
Soooo, stay tuned! Maybe she’ll let me pick a winner…I take bribes.
OW! Mom hit me!”
“Mom says I have to hold this poppy all day today and memorize a poem called ‘In Flanders Fields’…”
“Ooooh, this is so soft and pretty! May I pick some?”
Because a strolling squirrel gathers no moss.
“Mom, when will you be finished with this nest?”
It’s not a nest; I’m knitting a shawl.
“Well, I’m going to call it ‘My Warm Fluffy Bed’!”
And I’m going to call myself the Next New York Times Best Seller Author but you know what?
The chances of either becoming true are pretty much zero.
“Look Mom! I found new friends. They said they’d play with me, but they won’t stop arguing with each other.”
If you want my advice, I’d play with the red dude. His name is Optimus Prime. He’s a good guy.
“But the blue guy has a really cool voice.”
Yeah, Soundwave does have a cool voice, but you can’t trust him.
“Really? Heeeey, where did he go? And what is this funny machine thing doing here?”
[my apologies for the Transformer jokes you might not understand]
“Mom, what is out there?”
Um, the great wide world? Endless possibilities? An expanding universe?
“No, that’s not what I meant.”
Well, then, pesky bugs? An assault of pollen? The weather?
“Nooo, I mean, what is that little brown thing with the stripes on the grass that has been CHIPping for the past half hour?”
Oh, that would be a *&^% chipmunk.
“Mom! I have tender felt ears, you know.”
What? Something wrong?
“No. Look! I got mail!”
Please don’t yell like that again. My old heart can’t take it.
“But I got mail!”
Geez, Percival. Whom is it from?
“See for yourself.”
It’s from Sheralyn; how sweet of her to send you a pretty card.
“Well, at least she loves me.”
Oh, don’t you give me that lip, young man.
“Whatcha doing, Mom?”
Oh, you’re done with hide-and-seek?
So they found you, finally?
“No. I got bored and wandered off.”
That sounds like my brain sometimes.
Never mind. What do you want?
“Can you play with me?”
No; I have work to do.
“What are you doing?”
Writing and revising.
“That’s work? I thought you were just staring into space.”
“How about this bird? Can he play with me?”
He can’t play with you either. He’s a dummy.
“That’s not nice!”
“I mean a picture book dummy; that’s a sample book so people can see what the published form could look like.”
What are you doing, Percival?
“Shhhhh! I’m hiding.”
“We’re playing hide-and-seek.”
But I can see you.
“They can’t seem to find me.”
How long have you been hiding?
“The little hand was on nine and the big hand was on four when I started hiding.”
You’ve been hiding for seven hours and they still haven’t found you and you’re…right next to them? Your friends are not very bright.
“That’s not true. Sherlock Holmes is the world’s greatest detective.”
In his little LEGO mind, maybe.
“They’ll find me soon.”
Okay…I’ll come back to dust the cobwebs off you in another couple of days.
“What have we here?”
“What’s a Percival?”
“Elementary, my dear Geisha; a Percival is obviously an acorn-wielding burlap sack.”
“I’m a squirrel! Who are you?”
“I’m Sherlock Holmes, the world’s greatest detective.
“And you couldn’t figure out that I’m a squirrel?”
“You must be a mutant squirrel.”
“Pretty lady with the fan, who are you?”
“And I’m Judge Grump.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Nothing. Hey, you guys want to play?”
“What are we playing?”
“How about hide-and-seek?”
…to be continued…