Showing posts with label children. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children. Show all posts

Thursday, May 9, 2024

Story 538: Trying to Call Out From Work on Mother’s Day

             (On the phone)

Manager: Hi – what’s up?

Employee: Hi, yes, I would like to call out from work today, please.

Manager: Today is Mother’s Day.

Employee: Yes, yes it is.

Manager: It’s the second biggest sales day for us after Christmas Eve.

Employee: So I’ve been told.

Manager: You’ve also been told that I already gave the day off to the mothers among us, and the rest of you either needed to have requested off three months ago and hope for the best or take another day off to make up for it if you wanted.

Employee: I do recall that.  However, I should make you aware at long last that I, too, am a mother.

Manager: Since when?!

Employee: It has been my private shame these past five years: the Baron refuses to acknowledge not only me, the one true love of his life, but also his 12 illegitimate children, whose presence, if revealed, would divide his estate into so many portions that even his so-called legal heirs would barely get a dime, and the horrendous scandal would tear his country apart.  The least I could get out of this stressful ordeal is one day with my offspring serving me breakfast in bed, don’t you think?

Manager: You’ve had 12 children in five years?

Employee: …There were a few sets of triplets in there.

Manager: You’re still working today.

Employee: OK-OK-fine; if that tragic tale doesn’t move your cold heart to tears, then I must tell you directly: I rescued a gaggle of orphaned goslings last night, and they imprinted on me.

Manager: Really.

Employee: I am now the matriarch of an interspecies family – how can you ask me to walk away from that enormous responsibility on today of all days?!

Manager: Well, I’m not asking.

Employee: Glad we agree.

Manager: I’m telling you directly: if you don’t come into work today, you’ll have all the time you like to mother your feathered children because you won’t be spending it here.

Employee: (Sighs) You leave me no choice, then.

Manager: Here it comes.

Employee: I swore never to reveal this to a single modern soul, but you have pushed me to the brink: my true name is… Eve.

Manager: OK…?

Employee: As in, the Mother of All Humanity.

Manager: Oh, for crying out –

Employee: Peace, my child: I have long since forgiven you and your brethren’s slanderous lies that I am solely responsible for getting us kicked out of Paradise – I seem to recall your Father going along with the fun until we got caught, which is retroactively typical.

Manager: Whatever: you still have an eight-hour shift coming up in 20 minutes.

Employee: All right!  The truth is, I’d promised my mom that I’d request off Mother’s Day this year but then I lost track of time and when I finally remembered it was a week away and I ran out of people who could switch days with me and now she’s gonna give me the disappointed look for the rest of my life!

Manager: Now why didn’t you just lead with that?  I still can’t switch days for you but I know at least one person doesn’t want to work tonight anymore, so if you take their closing shift and they work your mid-shift then you’ll at least get to do brunch or something with your mom today.

Employee: Yes!  That’d be perfect – you’re a lifesaver, thank you!

Manager: You’re welcome.  I gotta make a few phone calls now to set this up, so I’ll see you at 5, OK?

Employee: That’d be swell!  You’re a great “mom” to all of us here, you know that?

Manager: Certainly feels like it.

Thursday, December 21, 2023

Story 521: Freeloading Christmas Party Guest

            (In a house full of Christmas trees, blinking lights, Nativity scenes, and snowpeople of all shapes and sizes, party guests eat, drink, and merrily finish preparing the main meal and all its side dishes)

Guest 1: (To Host) I know I’m stuffing my mouth with five different types of cheese right now, but I do mean it when I ask “Do you need any help?”

Host: (Pulling three trays out of the oven while stirring a pot of sauce with an elbow) Nah, I got it – but if you could light the burners under the racks for these pans, that’d be a big help!

Guest 1: (Stares at Host tossing the trays onto the racks and then whip up a salad out of thin air) …Sure, I think I can manage that.

(In the living room, guests stand, sit, and play according to age level when the front door suddenly bursts open)

Freeloader: Hey-hey, everybody, I made it!

Guests: Heyyyyy….

Guest 2: (Takes Freeloader’s coat and pointedly stares at the latter’s empty hands) Soooooo, anything that needs to be put in the fridge or out on the table?

Freeloader: Nope, just me, eh-heh-heh-heh!  I need a drink.  (Grabs an iced tea from a cooler, piles up a plate of appetizers, and sprawls across the couch, bumping a few guests aside) Coming in for a landing, folks!  (Guests move to the other side of the couch; Freeloader finishes the plate, tosses it and the iced tea onto the coffee table, and takes a nap)

Host: (Enters the living room with arms full of cups and cutlery) Dinner’s ready!

Freeloader: (Immediately wakes up and zooms to the dining room) Dibs on everything!

Host: (Sways in Freeloader’s wake) I didn’t even know you were here yet….

(After dinner, as many guests as possible pile into the kitchen and shuttle back and forth from there to the dining room to pack up whichever food is left, wash dishes, pots, and pans, and make room for dessert)

Host: (Carrying a tower of leftover containers; to guests) Oh really, this is such a big help –

Guests 1-20: Not at all!

(In the living room, Freeloader dozes in preparation for the after-dinner nap as several children rambunctiously play)

Freeloader: (Chuckles) I love how rowdy children are always someone else’s problem.

Child 1: (To Freeloader) I was told that when I reach double-digits, I have to take my place in the dish-drying line.

Freeloader: (Eyes close) Good for you.

Children 2-8: As must we all.

Freeloader: (Eyes open wide; Children 1-8 are standing in a row facing Freeloader, who then jumps while seated and looks up at the ceiling) Whoa, was that Santa’s sleigh landing on the roof just now?

Children 1-8: SANTA, YIPPPPPEEEEEEE!!!!!!  (They all run to their respective parents and beg to go outside)

Freeloader: (Leans back on the couch) Almost too easy.  (Turns head against the cushion to gaze fondly at the gently lit tree, then notices a tabletop Nativity scene nearby.  Squinting, Freeloader sees Baby Jesus in the manger, staring soulfully and gently accusingly back.  The two stare at each other as sweat beads on Freeloader’s forehead, until the latter can take the silent judgement no longer, jumps off the couch, and runs to the kitchen) Wait!  Save me a pot to scrub – a potato to wrap up – anything!

(Guest 2 and Guest 3 emerge from the corner they were watching from the whole time and follow)

Guest 3: That was a good idea, but I thought Baby Jesus isn’t supposed to be in there until Christmas Day?

Guest 2: What can I tell you?  He works in mysterious ways.

Thursday, August 31, 2023

Story 505: Too Busy to Live in a Horror Movie

(In a suburban house, Mom is on the phone while grabbing laundry from the dryer, kicking toys on the floor out of the way, wiping down random surfaces, etc.  She stops suddenly after rounding a corner to the living room and seeing the couch that was against a side wall now in the center with armchairs piled onto it, topped by the television set)

Mom: (Still on the phone, letting the laundry basket fall to the floor) You know, I’ve just about had it with them rearranging the furniture all the time.  The midnight screaming is one thing – my youngest had colic for six months so, really, please – but this!  (Gestures to the pile, then props the phone against one ear while hauling furniture back to their original positions) No, they think it’s funny to play Tower of Babel so then I have to clean up after them.  I already have three children, thank you!  (Uses a foot to kick the couch back against the wall) Unbelievable; I caught them the other night starting to drip what looked like blood but I suspect was syrup down the bathroom walls – which I had just deep-cleaned literally that same day, mind you – so you can bet I put a quick stop to that.... Sprayed the room with bleach until they knocked it off, what else?  (A low moaning builds up from deep inside the fireplace; Mom watches as gusts of air start shifting the logs inside) Hold on a minute – they’re up to some new garbage now.  (A sudden BANG! bursts open the flue, sending all sorts of debris flying out onto the living room floor as a disembodied presence swoops out of the fireplace and into Mom’s face)

Ghost: WOOOOOOOOO – !

Mom: (Lowers the phone to address Ghost) Well, that’s just great – would you look at all the dirt and insect bodies you strewed all over the place?!  Lucky for you I don’t even bother cleaning this floor more than once a year, else I’d really let you have it!

Ghost: WOOOOOO – huh?

Mom: (Walks through Ghost to lean into the fireplace and feel around inside) Oh, perfect, perfect!  (Comes out again, holding a handle) As if everything else wasn’t enough, now the flue is broken!  And the chimney cleaners were just here last week!  So fixing this is another expense we don’t need and time I don’t have to wait around for them to come back, and meanwhile all sorts of wildlife riffraff are gonna make their way in here unless I figure out how to block off everything because the flue is broken!  (Throws the handle through Ghost, who disappears) Yeah, that’s right, make a mess and evaporate!  (Raises the phone back up again) Sorry about that – got another headache added to my growing list.  I’ll let you go, then – what?  Oh yeah, I’ll see you there tomorrow morning around 10; sewer bills are paid at the Utility Department window, right?... I know there’s a late fee this time!

(At a soccer field, a dozen kids pile into Mom’s car; Mom then floors it to the speed limit)

Mom: (Shouting over the excited din of juvenile chatter) No dilly-dallying tonight, children: as soon as I pull up to your house, get yourself right on out of here because I’ve got a long night of cleaning ahead.

Carpool Child 1: You guys still have the ghosts hanging around trashing the place?

Child 1: Yes!  And it’s soooooo embarrassing!

Mom: “Embarrassing” is not the word for this situation.

Carpool Child 2: I think it sounds so cool – I wish our house was haunted like yours.

Mom: You’re welcome to mop up the muddy footprints and remake the beds 10 times a day and sweep up every broken thing on top of the mess this crew – (Thumbs back to Child 1 and Child 2 in the rear seats) already make on a daily basis!

Child 2: Hey!  But you love us!

Mom: Not when you leave tissues in your pockets for the laundry, I don’t!

Carpool Child 2: Yeah, never mind, I think I’ll pass on all that.

Mom: Wise move.

(At the kitchen table, Mom, Dad, and Child 1, Child 2, and Child 3 try to eat dinner as plates and glasses constantly shift through the air and banging noises in both the basement and the attic occasionally drown them out)

Mom: Now, I don’t want anyone to try using this as an excuse to skip your vegetables: I got wise to that the second time you pulled it and now I’m keeping inventory of everyone’s plates.

Child 1-3: Argggghhhhh…..

Dad: (Snatching a piece of chicken from a passing plate while reading from a large book propped open on a stand perched on the table) Hey everyone, I think from what this thing’s saying we’ve got at least seven poltergeists and other spirits in our home, but it could possibly be as many as 10 or even 1,000.

Mom: Sounds about right.  (Snaps a celery stick in half and starts chomping on it)

Child 3: (To Dad) If one of them dumps me out of bed again tonight, can I call out sick from school and play video games to recover?

Dad: If you’re recovered enough to play video games, you’re going to school.

Child 3: Worth a shot.

Mom: (To Dad) I’ll be out most of the day tomorrow paying bills and uprooting the dead tree, so I just know that these… (Briefly glances around at the children) nuisances will probably take the opportunity to bring the house down – are you sure this didn’t stem from that summoning chant you did at the office party?  Because if it did, you’ll be the first one I’m throwing to them when we’re temporarily homeless.

Dad: (Chuckles) No, I’m pretty certain the party just brought along that one little guy, and he was fine with my lock of hair for his bald head and went on his merry way.  So, the current crew’s presence appears to be… (Scans several pages of the book) unrelated.

(Mom glares at the children)

Child 1-3: Wasn’t us!

Mom: Just checking.  (The house trembles with a loud crash) What nowwwwwww!!! (Everyone jumps up from the table and runs to the living room to see furniture being piled up into a tower again; Ghost giggles while hoisting the television set to the top) HEY!  (Mom points at Ghost, who freezes) You put that back where you found it right now!  (Ghost sheepishly sets the television back onto the entertainment center) And the rest!  (Ghost, grumbling, starts putting the rest of the furniture back in their places as the family returns to the kitchen table; they resume eating and drinking from the flying plates and glasses as the banging continues upstairs and downstairs)

Dad: (Had started reading the book again) It looks like there’re a few passages I can recite to kick them all out of here at once, buuuuuut we have to wait until the next full moon in…. (Check cell phone) three weeks.

Mom: Three weeks?!  The house’ll be destroyed by then!

Child 1-3: Waaaahhhh!!!

Mom: Never mind, never mind – (Takes a deep breath) you and I will take shifts every night for the next three weeks and constantly run interference, that’s all.

Dad: We probably don’t have to go that far; maybe we can get up a little earlier and hope for the best –

Mom: The mortgage is still being paid off.

Dad: I’ll take first watch.

Mom: (Throws a fork at the floating napkin holder, pinning it to the floor) Not for nothing, I wish they’d targeted someone with nothing to do and haunt them instead – I mean really, who has time for this rubbish?!

Thursday, October 20, 2022

Story 462: Campfire Tale of Horror

(Around the evening campfire, Counselor and five Children sit on logs roasting marshmallows)

Child 1: I had so much fun today, it’s gonna be hard falling asleep tonight!

Counselor: Well, it’s a good thing tomorrow’s Sunday then, so you all have a day to recover at home before back to school on Monday.

Child 2: School, ugh!

Children 1-5: Uggghhhh!!!

Counselor: Ingrates.  (Tests a marshmallow with fingertips, then passes around chocolate and crackers for everyone to make s’mores) So!  Since it’s almost Halloween and we’re in the proper setting, would you like to hear a… serious and heartfelt story?

Children 1-5: (All shake their heads and laugh) Nooo!!!

Child 3: We want to hear a scary story!

Counselor: Ah, of course.  (Hastily finishes off the s’more) OK then, what should it be about?  Witches?  Werewolves?  Vampires?  Mummies?  Zombies?  (The Children shake their heads on each one) I’m running out of the classics here, kids.

Child 4: Those are all overdone – we want something really scary!

Child 5: Yeah, something that’ll give us nightmares!

Counselor: You may regret that….

Children 1-5: (Cheering over each other) Tell us a scary story!  Make us scream!  Haunt our dreams!

Counselor: Fine, fine!  If you insist.  (Wipes messy hands and leans forward; Children do likewise) This is a tale to freeze the blood, chill the heart, and send shivers down the spine – good thing we’re all sitting around a nice hot fire, right?

Child 1: Not to be rude, but this sounds like it’s going to be one of those tales that really aren’t that scary anymore.

Counselor: (Gets a devilish look) Oh, just you wait.  I call this –

 THE TALE OF THE UNSTOPPABLE LIFE CHANGES

             Children 1-5: …What?!

            Counselor: Don’t interrupt.

 Narrator: Once upon a time, there was a child, right around your age, who loved life, and was loved by life….

(In black-and-white overtones, Child (who looks like a younger version of Counselor) is skipping down a residential sidewalk in glee)

Child: (Smiling as wide as humanly possible) La, la, la, la, la….

Narrator: Not a care in the world, and knew that all was well and would always be well.  Until, one day –

(The robed figure of Adulthood jumps out from the nearby hedges)

Adulthood: Ta-da!

Child: (Stops skipping, but smile never falters) Why, hello!  And who might you be?

Adulthood: Your future, kid.

Child: Why, whatever could you mean?  I feel so grand about all things all the time, and you look terrible!

Adulthood: Life’ll do that to ya – mind if I sit down?  (Points to a nearby bench)  That surprise entrance did my knees and lungs no favors.

Child: But of course!  Do you also need to lean upon my youthful shoulder?

Adulthood: Not yet, but don’t wander off, either.  (Staggers over to the bench and collapses on it; Child follows and stands nearby)

Child: Do you need a glass of water and a pillow, oh Elder One?

Adulthood: (Wipes sweat from forehead) No!  Now listen up: you’ve had a good run; you were extremely lucky in having a loving family and living in comfortable, healthy surroundings; but all that’s done and it’s time for you to pupate into the horrors of puberty to reach your final destination of end-stage adult.

Child: (Still smiling; blinks once) I don’t follow.

Adulthood: Now, I’m not saying that I’m what you’re going to turn into, but judging by your parents, peers, and current trajectory, it’s pretty likely.  Scratch that: almost guaranteed.

Child: I know this sounds cold and disrespectful, but you appear to be an absolute failure.

Adulthood: In one.

Child: Then how could I possibly resemble you in any way once I have emerged from my glorious life cocoon?  I’m getting such good grades in school, and have such great friends, and I’m doing so well in basketball, and I just made finals in our geography tournament this year –

Adulthood: Kid.

Child: Yes?

Adulthood: I’m torn on whether to laugh or cry right now – either of which, I assure you, would be done most hysterically.

Child: Whyever is that?

Adulthood: At the end of the day, all your grades and activities and school-age achievements will mean bupkis: your success or failure in life will depend primarily on who you know, being in the right place at the right time, and putting in exorbitantly much more work than the person next to you.

Child: (Turns to the empty space next to both of them, then back to Adulthood; smile starts to falter) Huh?

Adulthood: And even if you’re lucky enough to be what this society deems “a success,” you’ll never be able to enjoy it: if the stress doesn’t destroy you, your neglect of your family if they still speak to you, any friends you might have left, life partner if you snag one, and/or any actual kids of your own, and their resentment of you in turn, will make you wonder why on Earth anybody does anything.

Child: (Smile fades further) What?

Adulthood: Oh, speaking of kids: your body’s going to start all those lovely life changes soon so you’ll be able to pop out another version of yourself, at least in theory; even if you don’t wind up going through with it, doesn’t matter, hormones and body transformation’re on their way, so kiss your last moments of unblemished happiness good-bye, `cause you are never getting them back.

Child: (Starting to whimper) Umm….

Adulthood: But, as much as you’re going to dislike your new form with its useless excess hair and pimples and glands that seem to do more harm than good, you’d better take special care of it with healthy food, regular exercise, a full night’s sleep, and regular doctor check-ups, or else your eventual “golden” years will be absolute torture, with no reprieve except the final one, and who would actually want to wish for that?!

Child: (Begins to cry) Why are you saying all these mean things?

Adulthood: They’re not mean, they’re just true.  At least now you’re prepared, right?  (Stands as Child cries harder) Oh, almost forgot: everything that is so much fun for you right now, all your joys and pleasures and good times, will slowly, inexorably, one-by-one, become… BORING.

Child: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Children 1-5: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!

Camp Director: (Jogs over to the group as Children 1-5 stop screaming) What is going on here?!  Is anyone hurt?!

Counselor: Oh no, just telling them a spooky story, no big deal, right, kids?

Camp Director: (Sees Children 1-5 nodding with wide eyes and shivering) Must’ve been a doozy.  All right, everyone come back to your tents, it’s bedtime! 

(They shakily gathering their belongings; Counselor wiggles both arms in a mock scare at them, making them laugh in relief as they walk back to their tents with Camp Director.  Counselor chuckles a bit before turning back to extinguish the fire and clean up the site.  Suddenly, a twig snaps; Counselor freezes, sensing there are others nearby, waiting.  Feeling a chill, Counselor slowly turns around to face the surrounding woods.  Standing at the tree line, not 10 feet away, are a Witch, a Werewolf, a Vampire, a Mummy, and a Zombie)

Counselor: (Gulps) Ummm….

Vampire: (Steps forward cautiously) On behalf of my fellows, we wanted to know: that was only a story to scare the children, yes?

Counselor: …Ye-es, only a story, all in the spirit of the season.

(The others visibly relax and laugh in relief)

Mummy: Oh good, we were worried for a moment there that it was true!

Zombie: Or at the very least, a petrifying allegory!

Witch: That would have been a real horror, let me tell you!

(They all cackle uproariously; Counselor forces out a few laughs, and they all wave farewell as the group turns back to the woods.  Counselor shakily turns back to finish cleaning up and is met by Werewolf, who instantly appears opposite from where the rest of the group had been)

Werewolf: (Speaking in a growl) I must say, even though that was all made-up, you humans sure are a scary bunch!

Counselor: (Laughs nervously very loudly, then suddenly sobers and looks inwardly) That we are.