C.W. and I were talking …
Left Head—the data-gathering one—said, “We’ve all been talking.”
“You’ve been talking. We’ve been listening, goof-round-object used for play,” Right Head—the frivolous one—said.
“You mean ‘goof-ball’ the middle—or evaluative one—said.
“Anyway,” Left Head said, turning to them and flashing what I’m told is the equivalent of a frown in Falloonia, “anyway, we are amazed at how much you seem to dote on Mrs. Big Dope, especially when she’s not around.”
“Yeah,” Middle Head said, “Explain.”
“I, uh … uh,” I searched for the right word, since they are not above recording every word I say (yes, they can do that), and playing whole conversations back to her.
“Is she easy?” Left Head asked.
“Not easy that way,” Right Head said, giggling. “Easy like in, ‘easy to get along with.’”
“Example,” Left Head said.
“Let’s see,” I said. “Oh yes. I knew this man one time whose wife wouldn’t let him crumble his crackers into his bowl of chili. Chewed him out if he tried.”
“Say what?” This got Middle Head’s attention.
“I think it was a Junior League thing,” I said.
“So, she's flexible. What else?” Left Head asked.
“Well, she's kind. Once when she taught elementary school, she caught the kids making fun of a little girl’s ragged, hand-me-down shoes.”
“She punished them?” Middle Head said. “Beat them? Walloped them good?”
“No. She guessed the girl’s size and bought her a pair of new shoes with her own money.”
“I’ll bet they wouldn’t do that in one of these new chartless schools.” Middle Head said.
“It is ‘charter school’ and no, they wouldn’t,” Left Head said. “They would never allow a child in one of those if their parents couldn’t afford new shoes for them.”
“She’s damned funny, too,” Right Head said. “She taught English to the kids.” He looked at me. “That’s when she made up that expression she uses when you offer some complicated excuse for screwing up.”
I was nonplussed.
Right Head continued, “When she accuses you of trying to ‘diagram a f…’”
“Shut up,” I said. “Where did you hear that?”
“She used it on me,” Right Head said.
“I think she sort of likes you, too, at least a little bit,” Middle Head said, re-directing the conversation thread.
“Quite so. I asked her why. We couldn’t understand it at all.”
“What did she say?”
“She borrowed a line from a movie she saw once,” Right Head said.
“And that was?”
“He always ate everything I cooked for him, and he never hit me.”
“And oh,” Middle Head said, “I take it she allows this cracker-crumbling thing?”
“Not in bed. Not anymore.”
|I think the reputation from her past|
helps keep Big Dope in line. - C.W.