1987: Andrew



[Dear Mother,]

E*** was with Andrew at Albertson’s the other day and told me that every time they announced some instore special over the intercom Andrew would holler, “OK!” She looked at him and said, “They’re not talking to you, baby!” She said his expression seemed to say, “How could they possibly not be talking to me?”

When you address him saying, “Andrew!” He almost infallibly answers, “Yes?” Here’s a little ritual dialogue that we’re all playing on him these days. He rises to the bait almost every time:

“Do you need a kiss?”
“Do you need a hug?”
“What DO you need?”

The answer here varies. It usually ends with him getting hugged and kissed and tickled.

His cussword is “dummy!” He hurls the epithet with such vigor it sounds like “dammit!” E*** sometimes loses patience when she’s been called “dummy!” a dozen times and pops him on the butt. He succumbs to a tragic fit of tears for about 30 seconds, then miraculously pulls himself together and presses on to chase the cat or browse in the garbage can.

(c) 2018 JMN.

About JMN

I live in Texas and devote much of my time to easel painting on an amateur basis. I stream a lot of music, mostly jazz, throughout the day. I like to read and memorize poetry.
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