"Bedtime Story 2012"

"Tell us a bedtime story, Granddad! Please, you haven't told us one in a long time."

"Well, you little ragamuffins. I'll just have to tell you one."

"Thank you, granddad. What's it gonna be about? Farty Helium? Ms. Bessie? Hoots? Slippery?"

"Now, you little wiggleworms settle down now, ya hear. Cos your granddad is thinking!"

"Rockhead? Pictru? Bongobob? Azam? Briggs?"

"My little whiskernappers, puhleeze. Maybe all of them will be in this bedtime story. Let's see, now. It was December of 2006 and your granddad was out of a job....again. My boss, Shwim, gave me my pink slip!

"Wasn't he the vindictive son-of-a-bitch you always rant, er, talk about, granddad?"

"Now, kids. You're too young to be using such language. Don't let your Grandma Kitty hear you say any of those words! She'll tie a knot in your tail!"

[ each grandkid looks at their behinds to wonder how this could be possible ]

"How could she do that, granddad?"

"That's just an Aunt Madelineism your great great aunt used to say."

"What's an Aunt Madelineism?"

"She was full of them. When I was a young boy-'bout the same age as you kids-we would be riding down the street in her Bel-Air. If she saw a female wearing tight shorts she would inevitably utter, 'someone ought to shoot her in the ass with hot peas.' Back then, it seems that particular type of clothing was referred to as short-shorts. And no self-respecting woman or young girl would be caught dead wearing them. And/or she would also say, 'If she poots, she'll rip 'em right down the middle.'"

"Why hot peas, granddad?"

"I guess it was just her way of putting things. Like when things didn't go her way she would say, 'I'm a'gonna shave my head and go down the railroad backwards.'"

"Huh?"

"Exactly. But that was your Aunt Madeline. But getting back to the story, my dear and precious grandkids."

"Huh?" ( chorus )

"It was Christmas of 2006, and things were bleak on the Pond. Your granddad was in his well, er, uh, fifties and was approaching senior-citizenshipdom...."

"What's seniorshitizenshitdumb, granddad."

"That's when your hair starts falling out the top of your head, you have to clip the hair in your ears, you cringe when the tv ads tell you about all the diseases that are out there, and how if you take their product, you might end up with an oily discharge or two. And you start worrying about your cholesterol level, and you can't eat french fries, hamburgers, ice cream, bologna sandwiches, and soft drinks, etc. anymore. And your knees start creaking, cos the onslaught of arthritis is headin' your way. And you start saying crazy things like, 'I just wish I could have a good bowel movement.' Things you never thought about saying when you were younger."

"No french fries, ice cream, bologna sandwiches!" ( chorus of sad faces )

"But when you go to the pharmacy-cos you're taking so many pills-they give you a 15% discount. And when you go out to eat-same thing. Discount. But then some vindictive, lard-ass, manipulative son-of-a-bitch fires you, so you don't have any money to even get a discount. That's what senior-citizenshipdom is!"

"Remember, you shouldn't say son-of-a-bitch, granddad? But cos it's a sad story, we'll forgive you this time. But does it get any better? Huh?"

"Well, we thought we might have to sell the house and leave Golden Pond?"

"Did you move in with Uncle Hoots? Or Uncle Marty?"

"You're getting ahead of the story. I'll get to that later.

to be continued....????