Most tellingly

I stomp back up the stairs and into our bedroom, where Mark is happily tucked beneath the blankets. “I am going to kill that girl.”

“Which one?”

“I had to get out of bed and chase Hazel around the house because she doesn’t want to go to sleep because she wants to dig behind the couch and WHY DOES SHE WANT TO DIG BEHIND THE COUCH? I will tell you why she wants to dig behind the couch because you know what’s behind the couch? Chocolate. Not accidental chocolate but thrown chocolate … not a little chocolate but a lot of chocolate … a few chewed bits and pieces where the person with the chocolate tried to eat around the nuts and then a bunch of larger chunks when that person decided that it wasn’t worth working around the nuts to get at the candy and so ALL OF THE CANDY THAT PERSON DECIDED NOT TO EAT she threw behind the couch BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT WE DO APPARENTLY WE JUST THROW UNWANTED FOOD AND CANDY BEHIND THE COUCH IT’S SO OBVIOUS.”

“So Kallan, then?”

“YES KALLAN THE ONLY GIRL IN THIS HOUSE WHO EATS SECRET CANDY AND WHO DOESN’T UNDERSTAND GARBAGE CANS AND WHO (MOST TELLINGLY) HATES NUTS. So I go down there and I’m arguing with Hazel because she wants the chocolate which she cannot have because it will make her sick and remember that time we had to have Jack’s stomach pumped when he ate chocolate? Kallan was THERE FOR THAT WHAT IS WRONG WITH THAT GIRL? And so I’m fending Hazel off as I pull the couch away from the wall and climb over the top of it to retrieve the chocolate, and …”

Mark interrupts me. “Were you naked?”

“What?”

“Were you naked?”

I gesture at the towel I have wrapped around my body. “No, I was not naked. I was wearing this towel.” I stare at him.  “Why?”

“I just thought maybe that was the punchline.”

“What?”

“Most of your stories have a punchline,” he explains.

“So wait … in your version of the story I am telling you, me being naked is the punchline?”

“You know what I mean.”

I glare at him. “You do realize that punchline generally refers to the payoff of a joke, right?”

He stares at me. “Does it?”

“Yes.”

He considers.  “Ummm … so then I meant something else.”

Obviously.

 

 

 

12 thoughts on “Most tellingly”

  2. I love your new website. It may bamfoozle your fans, hence the reduction in comments. Or perhaps the nuclear war has begun. Mark will want to know if you were naked when that began…

    1. He so will.

      And I don’t think my fans (hordes that they are) are bamfoozled. I think they are so distracted by the rapturous thoughts of my new book’s upcoming release, they have been rendered speechless and wordless. Also, I posted twice today, which honestly … is never a good idea if one is trying to elicit commentary.

      So there is that as well.

      But you … you are here … THANK YOU.

  4. Ok. Was catching up. It appears that when life hands me lemons I make a u-turn and go back for tequila and salt.

    The story with the yellow wall made me want to pick little you up and spirit you away and then go back and leave a bloodbath of epic proportions in your absence. (((Hugs)))

    So, back to the present. My little brother used to shove candy wrappers or snack cake wrappers or any kind of wrapper in the cracks between the couch cushions. I always got blamed for it, though I am yet to determine why everyone thought I was the culprit.

    And as for Mark, if there’s nudity, mean will always assume that’s where things were ending. LOL

    1. Kallan is forever shoving things into the spaces between the couch cushions, which would be less of a problem if the dogs then didn’t come foraging and rummaging and cushion-ravaging through in hopes of finding that discarded secreted string-cheese wrapper.

      For example.

      Sigh.

    1. That would be a NO.

      Mark doesn’t do dog and children late-night screw-ups.

      He only does nudity, when it arises.

      Wait.

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