The Anecdotal Life Part. 14
This is an excerpt from a book I intend to self-publish called "Choo Choo and Cohorts" It is the innocent beginning of a horrifying series of calamities that two children invent. Well, at least one of them anyway. You'll meet him in the second chapter. This is the first chapter called "Westward Ho".
"My sister, Diane, turned her back on her two-year-old son to deal with the monthly milk bill. She usually tied him to a chair, a very heavy chair, but he seemed too sleepy for trouble and she was too busy to take precautions.
Choo instinctively saw his advantage and tiptoed over to the window, grasped the sill and stretched to peer out. All he could see was a big, beautiful, white truck in front of him. Enchanted, he slipped out the door and padded quietly along the stone path, still wearing his blue sleepers. He hated changing clothes. We used to pay his sister, Elizabeth, a dollar every time he needed a diaper change, and it was worth it. Now, however, avoiding any clothes hassles and nearing his goal, he swung open the gate and smiled up at the enormously inviting white truck. He clambered onto the running board and hoisted his rotund, small body up on the front seat.
As usual, part of the ensuing debacle was Gram's fault. She'd spent the previous evening baby sitting all three of them and regaling him, in particular, with a story about the time she and her friends swiped midnight rides on the town's only trolley.
With the keys dangling in front of his eyes, he grabbed them and the opportunity to emulate Gram in one movement. All he had to do was push and pull and turn things like he'd seen his father do.
Choo was, for the moment, perched at the top of a terrifically long, curving driveway, at the end of which was a new mailbox, a ditch, a road, the neighbor's driveway, their garage and newly added breakfast nook attached like a breezeway between the garage and the house. Past all that was Peterson's pond and then the lake. So Choo pulled the last lever blocking his progress and sailed west, not into the sunset, but down the long, long driveway, gaining a ferocious amount of speed in his descent."
And my dear friends, because that's probably the only people reading all this, I shall publish this book beginning in August, much to the consternation of good old Choo and you can find out what transpired... or expired.
Copyright: June 7, 2006.
"My sister, Diane, turned her back on her two-year-old son to deal with the monthly milk bill. She usually tied him to a chair, a very heavy chair, but he seemed too sleepy for trouble and she was too busy to take precautions.
Choo instinctively saw his advantage and tiptoed over to the window, grasped the sill and stretched to peer out. All he could see was a big, beautiful, white truck in front of him. Enchanted, he slipped out the door and padded quietly along the stone path, still wearing his blue sleepers. He hated changing clothes. We used to pay his sister, Elizabeth, a dollar every time he needed a diaper change, and it was worth it. Now, however, avoiding any clothes hassles and nearing his goal, he swung open the gate and smiled up at the enormously inviting white truck. He clambered onto the running board and hoisted his rotund, small body up on the front seat.
As usual, part of the ensuing debacle was Gram's fault. She'd spent the previous evening baby sitting all three of them and regaling him, in particular, with a story about the time she and her friends swiped midnight rides on the town's only trolley.
With the keys dangling in front of his eyes, he grabbed them and the opportunity to emulate Gram in one movement. All he had to do was push and pull and turn things like he'd seen his father do.
Choo was, for the moment, perched at the top of a terrifically long, curving driveway, at the end of which was a new mailbox, a ditch, a road, the neighbor's driveway, their garage and newly added breakfast nook attached like a breezeway between the garage and the house. Past all that was Peterson's pond and then the lake. So Choo pulled the last lever blocking his progress and sailed west, not into the sunset, but down the long, long driveway, gaining a ferocious amount of speed in his descent."
And my dear friends, because that's probably the only people reading all this, I shall publish this book beginning in August, much to the consternation of good old Choo and you can find out what transpired... or expired.
Copyright: June 7, 2006.
posted by The Anecdotal Life at 5:49 AM
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