Heidi, apparently just back from Rehab: “Grandpa, I missed you so.”
Grandpa, apparently in need of such: “And I missed you, too, little… um… I’m sorry. I can’t recall your name. Our family breeds like rabbits on moonshine and there are 47 girls running about who look just like you.”
Heidi: “That’s okay, Grandpa. I’ve grown accustomed to not having an identity after Mother started dressing me like this. But still, I had a few questions for you, if you don’t mind. It’s for a project at school.”
Grandpa: “School? So, they’re letting you go back there, even after what you did during the Festival of the Stuck Pig? That’s wonderful!”
Heidi: “Well, it’s not all that great. I’m not allowed to have caffeinated beverages and I can’t go to the bathroom without an armed chaperon, but they do let me take classes that don’t involve machinery or combustible chemicals. In one of my classes, Rudimentary Composition for People Born in Barns, we have to interview one of our elders and write a report about it.”
Grandpa: “And you picked me? That makes me feel pretty special.”
Heidi: “Well, you don’t toot as much as the other grandpa, so I didn’t have to spend a lot of time on the decision.”
Grandpa: “Oh. I guess that makes sense. I never did understand why my cousin Earl has such noisy guts. You’d think he’d stop eating whatever it is that makes him that way, especially after he blew out the south wall of the-”
Heidi: “Grandpa, that’s not really one of my questions, so you can save that. My first question is where did we come from?”
Grandpa: “Come from?”
Heidi, sighing: “Where did our family live before we lived here?”
Grandpa: “Hell if I know. I would imagine that wherever we come from is a place that didn’t want us anymore.”
Heidi: “Yeah, well, that doesn’t help me out a lot. Anyway, next question. Who is my most famous ancestor?”
Grandpa: “It’s not cousin Earl.”
Heidi: “I think I figured that out on my own. Look, you’re not taking this very seriously. Do you want me to get a bad grade on this report and they hold me back a year?”
Grandpa: “Like you haven’t been to that dance before. Honey, I’m just being honest with you. Our family hasn’t done squat since we crawled out of the sea. We are not the Kennedys. We aren’t even The Simpsons on a bad day. We simply carry on with what we’ve got and we make do. Like me wearing this ugly-ass shawl because I’m cold and I’m too lazy to find something more manly.”
Heidi: “Okay, I see where this is going, which is probably more time in Rehab. Still, I might as well ask the last question. What is the most enduring quality of our family?”
Grandpa: “Oh, that one I can answer. All of us are doomed to have really bad hair, no matter what we do. We will never be attractive in yearbook photos or most-wanted posters. It’s a curse that knows no end.”
Heidi: “So, I really am looking at another round of Rehab.”
Grandpa: “Probably. But look on the bright side. You’ll get to catch up with a lot of your kinfolk that you haven’t seen in a while.”
Heidi: “All of this is just so depressing.”
Grandpa: “Oh, chin up, girl. At least you didn’t have to bunk with Cousin Earl when you were a young un. Life is really challenging when you have to strap yourself to the bed so you don’t get blown out the south wall. Wait, where are you going?”
Heidi: “Any place but here.”
Categories: Unfocused Issues
Maybe Heidi will meet a good hairdresser in rehab.
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It’s bound to happen sooner or later…
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But Heidi, at least you have cheese!
(Full disclosure: I’ve never seen Heidi the movie, but I read the book and cheese plays an important, life-affirming role. As it should.) 😉
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I’m assuming that there is plenty of cheese to be found on the homestead. How else did they make that dress?
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Please can we get to meet the infamous cousin Earl next week?
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It’s very possible. I’ll check his schedule…
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If i were sleeping with uncle Earl I would want to be blown somewhere…
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LOL! Yes, that might be the quickest escape… 😉
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Heidi, surely you jest ?
My name is not Shirley grandpa.
It is not Shirley Temple either – not on this movie’s budget.
Well, that explains mother’s angst .
I wouldn’t touch her angst, it would burn your hand.
Yet it can not curl hair – I’ll audition for the shampoo commercial next week.
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Shirley Temple, freshly arrived onstage: “What’s this crap I’m hearing about somebody trying to steal my schtick?”
Melania Trump, freshly arrived from a secretive meeting with her divorce lawyer: “It’s not me. That’s fake news!”
Fireman from Station 69, freshly pulling on his pants: “I smell a burning hand in this mess.”
Donald Trump, un-freshly arrived form a local embalming station near you: “It’s not my hand. My hand and my legendary penis are too big too burn.”
Mayor of San Juan, Puerto Rico, unable to arrive because of that damn hurricane: “Hello? We’re still dying over here…”
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Fun blog! Really creative. You might like mine, too. It’s a Wizard of Oz allegory.
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Thanks, Cathi! I’m in the midst of poking about on your blog right now… 😉
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