Ode to Beakman’s World and How I Love Thee

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Image from Google.

Ode to Beakman’s World and How I Love Thee

Ode to Beakman,

And how I love thee,

for you made science

interesting.

I’ve never been one,

To like numbers and physics,

Biology and chemistry,

And certainly not anatomy.

But oh Beakman,

With your Lester the Rat by your side,

And an arsenal of ’90s sound effects,

I was caught in your cheesy scientific slide.

Every Saturday morning,

I’d watch you blow something up,

Explain how everyday things worked,

While Lester yucked it up.

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From Google.

You made science less scary,

More inviting, even,

So I even went to the science fair,

thanks to your maniac hair and grin.

Ode to Beakman’s world,

And how I love thee,

For without your cheerful sidekick Lester the Rat,

Or your zany personality,

I might have never gone to city.

(Science fair, that is.)

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  Fun awaits! 

 

Betrayal

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I can’t believe you.

 

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I’m so enraged, I can’t even look at you.

 

 

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I haven’t pooped on the floor.  I haven’t chased the deer in at least two days.  I piddled near the pad– I only missed it by two inches.  Are you forgetting that spider I saved you from?  What about the evil mail man?  He comes every day with those dubious looking boxes, inches from the glass. I nearly give myself a black eye flinging myself into the back door to scare him away, straining my vocal cords to alert every dog within a fifteen mile radius that there’s an intruder on my property.  I do all this for you, and what do you do for me?

 

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The vet.  You took us to the vet.  But I’ll show you.  I won’t lick you, I won’t kiss you, I won’t sniff you.  I’ll wait until you stop eating and prance onto the pad, hovering my butt over the paper and squeezing so just as you take your next bite, the rancid smell of my excrement hits you.  They say taste begins on the tongue, you know.  Taste this!

 

Oh, and by the way I puked on your car seat.  Perhaps you will think twice next time you betray us.

 

Rude.

 

Just so you know, I expect extra chicken tonight.

 

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  More stories await!

 

Lightening

 

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Image found here.

The residents of Monroe, Texas, were not thrilled at the dark clouds crowding out their July sunshine.  It was Texas.  It was July.  The muggy heat was enough to choke a maggot, and it wasn’t just kids who wanted to vanish under six feet of cool and wet.  Not even sprinklers or dunking one’s head under the hose could stave away the sticky, uncomfortable blanket of humidity that had unceremoniously draped itself across Monroe, like a old aunt’s afghan one didn’t want or need.

“Everyone out of the pool!” the lifeguard yelled.  Parents groaned, kids shrieked and the 16-year-old lifeguards blew their whistles and grinned behind the lanyards.  They’d be getting off early, today.  There was no arguing with those clouds.

One child, however, didn’t get out for the whistle.  While everyone else grumbled on the side of the pool, toweling themselves, a dark form zipped back and forth in the water.

“Hey, kid, get out!” one of the lifeguards yelled.

But the flippers kicked back and forth, back and forth, zigging and zagging from the deep to the shallow end.

“Kid, come on!”  The lifeguard glanced at the sky.  The dark clouds were rumbling with the deep threats of storms only July and April can bring.  A flash of white cracked against the ominous grey.  “Kid, come on!”

But their resentment of the kid’s blatant disregard of the rules turned to suspicion, then concern.  It had been at least three minutes since the kid surfaced.  Still he went back and forth, back and forth, his head never breaking the surface once.

The lifeguards huddled under the tallest chair to conference.  “Should we pull him out?”

“No one can stay under for that long.  He’ll get brain damage.”

“We can’t leave him here.  There’s lightening.”  The lifeguards looked at each other and nodded.  It was decided.  One ushered out the gaping crowd, another jumped in the water and a third waited on the side, just in case.  The lifeguard kicked his way down to the deeper end of the pool and caught the kid’s arm under the shallow of the diving board.  He tugged, trying to pull the boy up, but to his shock, the boy turned his head and grinned.  Purple gills flapped on the sides of his skinny neck.  He wore no goggles, but a clear film bubbled around each eye like a glass encasement.

“Five more minutes?”

The lifeguard opened his mouth and sucked in water.  His lungs seized and the boy pressed his hand to his mouth.  Oxygen flooded through his webbed fingers and the lifeguard drank in a wobbly breath, the air tickling the back of his throat.

“Better?”  the boy asked.

The lifeguard nodded.  The boy’s gills flapped, open and and shut.  “Don’t mind me,” he told the lifeguard.  “I’ll get out in a little while.  I love swimming in storms.  I love swimming, period.”

That much was obvious.  The lifeguard kicked back to the surface.  The other lifeguards looked at his empty arms.  “Where’s the kid?”

“It’s not a kid, it’s a cat.”  The lifeguard hauled himself out, wet footprints trailing behind him as his feet slapped toward the booth.  “Let’s go.”

The lifeguards looked at the shadow in the water, then at the sky.  They shrugged and hurried after him.  If anyone asked, it was his fault.  They were going to the movies.

That night in Monroe, if anyone had been near the pool, they would heard more than the rumble of thunder and crack of lightening.  They would have heard the high-pitched giggle of pure childhood delight, the splashing of one gill-necked boy as he splashed in the deep end of the pool.

After all, there’s nothing like swimming in the rain.

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  More stories next week!

It was a bad, bad day….

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I had a head full of snot.

 

I got rained on between classes in a white shirt.

 

The back end of my skirt fell in the toilet and slapped against my legs.

 

I had to stay late after class to meet with a professor and was so tired, I locked my keys in the trunk.

 

Again.

 

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When I called Ben, I thought he’d be mad.

 

I thought he’d lecture, or bellow, or curse.

 

Instead, he just laughed.

 

Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into the UTSA parking lot with flowers as the clouds shivered with rain, waiting.  He wrapped me in his arms and kissed my forehead before pressing his keys with his thumb.  My trunk popped open.  On top of my school bag, my keys waited sheepishly.

 

“Ready to go home?” 

 

I met his smile and nodded.  “Oh yeah.”

 

It’s nice to know that someone is around to rescue me, even if I never want to be rescued.

 

With flowers. 

 

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  A new short story mañana!

Just to keep you entertained, some new pictures….

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I foresee some major scrapbooking going on…

 

 

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Taken at my sister’s wedding in April….

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From our anniversary trip…

 

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Grumpy Cat keeps me company during class.

 

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The squirrels on campus will eat from your hand.  They love crackers, just like the deer.

 

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The last day of the San Antonio Writing Project….a bunch of the girls in class and I went out to celebrate!  The steer was not as excited as I was.

 

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!  New stories coming soon!

 

After my last day of class tomorrow…

 

 

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When I escape these brick walls,

Oh what fun I shall have!

I’ll dance and twirl in the sun,

Swim, swim, swim for yards,

And run and run and run.

 

I’ll sit outside and write,

Read something real like a book,

Relish aborbing interesting texts,

And not hearing jabber about what to do next.

 

I’ll run errands before nine o’clock,

Talk to a friend or two,

Lunch won’t come in a box

and I won’t have all that baking to do.

 

I won’t have to bring breakfast to hungry teachers,

Won’t have to make cookies for potluck lunch,

Or sit through six hours of ‘story sharing,’

That makes me want to pluck out my eyelashes one by one.

 

I can go to the vet and hair salon too,

Even brush some paint across a page or two,

But the best part about this week break?

Why, I could stay up late!

Nine o’clock or even ten,

Boy, I can’t wait for the fun to begin.

 

Stay tuned, Invisible Friends!