Whisper 2.05

Dear Mom,

Did you ever try playing dominoes with two cranky kids and your best friend before bed? Let me just say that the second wind seems to prefer the younger set. Riley and me were yawning and propping open our eyes long before we could convince the two littlies to pack it in.

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At last, though, with promises of stories–their choice!–we lured them away from the board and tucked them into bed.

Riley read “Basic Chess Openings” to Bo. She said he got so excited about all the ways he could destroy his opponent (most likely, Patches) that she thought he’d never fall asleep!

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I started to read a chapter book, but after the first page, I just made up the story. It was a lot more fun, and it gave me the chance to work out the plot-line for the first story arc in my next novel.

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It snowed all night. So of course the next day was another snow day. But it was sunny! The first sunny day in forever! Riley was so excited that she decided we should have a barbecue.

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Then I heard screaming! The barbecue was ablaze!

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The paparazzi guy who’s been hanging out snapping pics of us grabbed one of the fire extinguishers and aimed it at the grill.

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I found one, too, and tried to help.

“Calm down, Riley!” I yelled. I was worried she’d pass out from screaming so hard.

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Then the fire spread to the garden fence. I was so scared. I was screaming, too!

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Oh, Mom. We fought that thing for what felt like eternity. I’m sure it was not even half an hour, but it seemed we’d never get it out. Eventually, our paparazzo conquered the blaze.

“Man, I’m so glad you were here,” I told him.

“Hey,” he said. “When it comes to covering our beat, we’d do anything to preserve what we love. Or at least I would.”

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I realized, then, that there were some advantages to being semi-celebrities. If we weren’t your kids, Mom, if we were just regular folks, who knows? We might be burnt crisps by now!

But we’re not. We’re safe and this guy says he’ll be around as long as he can, just to keep an eye on us.

Riley says that angels come in all sizes and shapes. Some of them even carry cameras.

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We ended up eating left-overs, inside, rather than a picnic. By then it was cloudy and snowing again.

“Think I’ll have to go to school tomorrow?” Patches asked.

“Likely,” I said.

“That’s great,” she replied. “I’ve got an epic story for show’n’tell.”

Yeah, and Mom, I’m just grateful that we all lived to tell it.

Love you. Miss you,

Marigold

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