about
I barely squeeked through on the first trial with a non-guilty. Giving me one point toward Heaven much to St. Peter's dismay. For some reason, I annoy him. No idea why. Unless he's still moping about that stapler incident.
Anyway the 2nd trial is about to begin so make yourselves comfortable and sign in with a guilty or non-guilty. However you see it.
Defendant is accused of amusing herself by making sport of her child.
The facts. The testimony.
"You are NOT?" My friend and neighbor, Terry, said, laughing.
"Oh yeah. I really am. I even weighted down his lunch box so he'll think there's something in there. He's putting his shoes on right now."
"Ok," she said. "How much we going for this time? Dollar?"
"Yeah, dollar will do. What's your guess?"
"I say no more than 3 minutes."
"You're making this too easy. He'll stand out there at least 5 minutes maybe longer."
Now the bus stop was right in front of our house and there were usually anywhere from 5 to 6 kids waiting. On this day it was snowing hard and not one kid was present. Well, except for Jake who stood by the curb, lunch box in hand.
Terry and I talked on the phone while we waited. "What's he doing now," she asked with 2 minutes down. She could see him from her window but I clearly had the cat bird seat. "Is he making snow balls?"
"Yep." I told her. "Yes, he is. Just putzin around. Not a care in the world."
"How can he not notice there are no other children?"
"He has my blood in his veins." I explained simply. "Long as he's there, that's all he cares about."
Five minutes went by and sure enough he continued to wait. After six we decided I'd have to go out and get him. Which I did! Then immediately went over to collect my buck.
Now before you judge me on this just think about how happy he was when he found out there was no school that day.
Not my fault! I claim innocence on this one. I made cookie monster cookies for the neighborhood block party. Jake ate more than his share. Next day he came running in to me...."Mom! Mom! Come see! I made a blue poop."
Sure enough, it was bluer than the deep blue ocean. "Oh dear." I told him. You have blue poopitis.
"Can it kill you?" he asked.
"Naw. It doesn't kill you. It turns you into a smurf. You know like Papa smurf?"
"I don't wanna be a smurf, mom."
"None of them did, son. But that's what happens when you make a pig out of yourself and eat too much blue stuff."
Jake looked down at the floor like he'd lost his best friend. "What if Willow the cat eats me?"
"It'll be okay. She'll poop you back up. Smurfs aren't digestable."
Now before you all jump up and cry guilty I told the little whipper right away that I was kidding. So I don't even see why this is an issue. Except he still holds a grudge.
"YOU WERE!"
"Oh yes. I was very famous." Now he was down right fascinated with that photo. The whole idea of Mom flying throught the air with the greatest of ease just tickled him so much that I never told him the truth. Consequently when he was in the second grade, darned if he didn't take that picture to show and tell.
I was head room mother that year and knew all the teachers. Mrs. Goe called that afternoon laughing so hard I thought she'd choke. (it was well known by then that I enjoyed setting Jake up) "I can't believe you pulled this one off," she said, still laughing.
"What'd I do?"
So she told me all about Jake standing up in front of the room telling the class about his mom, "The Flying Mombinian". He took a lot of heat from other kids. Then he whipped out that photo and damned if they didn't all believe it too.
Mrs. Goe being the responsible adult that she is gently told them all that Jake's mom was just having some fun with him again.
You wouldn't think a little second grader could get so ticked off. But when he came home he was red-faced angry. "YOU ARE NOT EITHER A FLYING MOMBONIAN!" he shouted.
"I'm sorry. I told him. You are right. I wasn't. But I had to say that because I was undercover. You see son, I work for the government. I'm a secret agent. And we had to make up a past for me so the spies from other countries won't find out who I really am.
"Really?" he asked, doubtful, yet hopeful.
"Really."
And there you have it. Not all of it..... but my fingers are sore. I urge you to judge me fairly. Can I help it if I have a creative mind? Was that not a God-given gift? I thank you. the end.
Denny. Too late. He's already 29. Remind me to tell you guys about Orca the whale sometime. That one even got me in trouble the big guy.
Ok Josh....2, 3, 4....oh...I'm short a dollar. Lemme see if I can borrow one from Elvis. He always has a lump of cash in his pocket. Nobody knows why. Everything is free here. None of us say anything to him though. He 's been a tad irritable cause they haven't brought any good looking women into our section yet.
Milky, you have no idea how bad he's gonna kill me...if...he sees it. Which he probably won't. I'm like my very own island out here. I can't pretty much get away with anything. Least I hope so. I sure don't wanna get him started again about the school bus thing. He never has let that one go.
OO. Waygon. I'm liking your mom. ahhhhh ha ha ha haha! I'll try to say hello to St. Peter but currently he's not speaking to me. Just huffs when I try to talk to him. We had an incident. Minor and not completely my fault. He'll come around.
Roscoe, he has grown to be, sadly, much like me. The pranks between us are constant. And we get real competitive. But he's no match for the master. Not even. He has a far, far, way to go. ahhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha ha ha!
Hiya, Rox!
Not guilty is what I'm lookin for. Much to St. Peter's dismay I have my eye on a nice puffy cloud here in heaven across the street from John Wayne who I happen to think is extremely hot! And then there's the added bonus here of free Mexican food and ice cream. Plus no calories. It's just too good to pass up.
Sadly, I also have to put up with Boy George who is turning out to be a real pain in the butt.
Fawna? You were gone? Didn't notice.
I almost became your first guilty. I'm sorry but I can not believe the trama you put your own son through. But then I saw he turned out pretty well and just like you. NOT GUILTY!
Oh and by the way, all that ribbing I have been doing with you ... um, I was just kidding, really I was. I don't even watch football ... (hoping she is buying that one) ... run away ...
Jamwall, you're right! Kato is down there. Oh crap! I forgot about him. I locked that basement door 2 weeks ago. How long can a person live without food and water? Wonder if he's still alive. Here...here's the key. You go look. I'll wait.
PS. I don't suppose you're available for legal consult in the next trial?
Barman, it's not bad to be a smurf. Look at the bright side you are now officially one half of the Michigan colors. Course nobody can see you unless they have a microscope and you're likely to end up on the bottom of some fans shoes but it'll be an adventure. ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh ha ha ha ha!
Milky, pssst. I'm gonna sign Jamwall up to bail my sorry ass out of this mess. He's very good. Anyway, I'll need to borrow some money. You know, to suck him in to defend me....er....I mean...pay his fee. It won't be like last time. I'll pay you back.
Check your shoes before you leave.
Not Guilty! (wheres my money?)