Lisa stayed home from school today due to a nasty cold.  But she is recovering well, and her voice, nearly absent over the weekend, had mostly returned.

This morning, Jasper left the bed where he and Lisa were drowsing and followed me to my office in order to lounge in “the chair” which, to him, had become “the bed.”

A few minutes later, Lisa came out of the bedroom and proceeded to use her newly found voice as follows (wording approximate, but the spirit of the exchange is accurate):

LISA (squatting next to Jasper and petting him on the head, using a “poor baby” voice): You left me to come here where there is so much noisy typing.

ME: He came here to sleep in his chair – I mean my chair.

LISA (gazing at me quasi-contemptuously): He can’t sleep, with all this noise.

ME: Sure he can.  He told me that the typing exerts a hypnotic effect on him.

LISA (sneers, this time with a 75% dose of contempt): Well, he lied.  He told me that he can’t sleep that way.

ME (surprised, quasi-crushed): Why would he lie to me?

LISA (with 110% contempt): He didn’t want to hurt your feelings.

ME (raised right eyebrow, 135% crushed): But you do.

LISA (walking away): I’m just interested in the truth.

ME (to myself, shaking head): What the f**k just happened?  Where’s Tim Taylor when I need him?


About Michael J. Kubat

I'm a grumpy Czech-born clinical social worker who is vitally interested in the survival in the United States as a viable democracy and a beacon of hope for the rest of the world.
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