Time For The 12 Year Mark

I had just returned from my latest trip to find I had mail. It must have been there forever, but I just found it, so it is new to me. Right? Right? Maybe old but new? Nope. Can't be two, so I'll go with new. New even makes a rhyme for you. Anyway...

Great. He's leaving again. Since when did we become nanny's pets? You need to get your little rhyming ass back here, human. You...

No comments from the poop eating crowd. Boy, you are just too loud. Anyway, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted....hmm was I saying it when I never said it? Maybe about to say is better. We'll go with that. I was about to say that the mail said I had to go...Damn it. It blew away. Who uses mail anymore? Why couldn't it have just came in an Instagram message? Why mail? Old people. Pffft.

Uncle Pattie, it isn't nice to make fun of old people. You're being a wanker.

Quiet or I'll feed you to that mongoose under these stairs. Do you see the letter?

Nope. Not there. But I see a big rock. You should get that big rock and throw it in. Then maybe you won't be such a wanker.

If I must.

I saw it, Uncle Pattie. That wanker duck took it. And look. It flew away. Your letter is gone and now you will never know where to go. 

Oh, I'll find the letter. No wanker duck is going to beat me.

We'll go with. We can all catch the wanker duck.

Alrighty then, loves. Onward we go into the deep dark woods in search of a wanker duck. Who knows what we will see. Not me. Hold up. I think I need to pee.

Me too. Me three. Maybe we can save some and throw it at the wanker duck.

Let's not save some. Shake it off and let's go. We have a letter to find, you know?

Hmmm. This doesn't look too promising. I mean I'm number one and not this car thing. How dare it steal my number. Maybe it should go take a long drive off a short bridge. You think?

Oh letter. Oh letter. Where did you go? Not down there, so damned if I know.

I bet it went in that cave. It seems like a likely spot.

Uncle Pattie, zombies are probably in that cave.

No letter or treasure but zombies? Damn that. Moving on.

Seems like a good place to hide...if you were something round. Since the letter is flat, I think we should skip searching all of that.

You just don't want to search it cause they probably are full of fish poop, Uncle Pattie.

Shhhhh. Don't spill my secrets or I'll put you both in the zombie cave.

I bet that could shine a light on things. If it weren't for the damn fog. No self respecting letter would go into the fog. Let's move on.

Wait. Wait. Hold on. Here I come Nyers. Wait? What? Alien? Nope. Probing is out. Here I go, Nyers. But if you see a letter let me know.

Yeah. Like an open door to a creepy cave ever ended in anything good. Kids, you go first and let me know what's in there.

No way. Could be zombies. Or...

You two really need to let the zombies go, but just in case, let's skip the creepy open door.

Pat Hatt phone home? Do you think I remember any phone numbers let alone want to use one of these antique things? Hell no. I'd be able to walk to whoever I'm calling faster than using this thing. It's what you call vintage, boys.

Does that mean old? Uncle Pattie, are you making fun of old people again? That's not nice. Plus, you are old too.

Next cave or creepy door I find, I'm throwing you two in.

Nope. No letter here. We'd know because it would be floating along in a bottle. Letter's are cliche like that, you know?

I bet one of those tourists grabbed my letter. Now it has their tourist germs all over it. Oh, wait. They are all too busy taking pictures to ever deal with a letter. I think we are safe.

Kids, go climb that hill and check to see if my letter is sledding over there or something.

Uncle Pattie, don't you know letters don't sled? And there is no snow.

Look at you two being all realistic. If only you took that to heart with zombies.

All right you not so overgrown, stuffed, fake ass lobster. Give up the letter. I know you or the child attached to you took it.

No beer for children. Back off, human. No letter here.

Uncle Pattie, did you just talk in a high pitched voice to us as the lobster? That was...

Shhhh. I told you to stop spilling my secrets. Next you'll tell everyone there never was a rhyming cat and it was just Pat Hatt. I don't think I could take that.

Hey! Any of you see a letter? Fine. Ignore me. I'll find a bigger crowd somewhere else.

Any of you seen my letter? I know one of you got it. Give it up or I'll have these two children make it rain.

Uncle Pattie, do you want us to make it rain with pee? I don't think we have enough.

I meant crying and making them mad with your shrieking. Not getting us arrested. Children. Geez.

I think I may have spotted it. See that white thing on a roof down there? That has to be it. Let's go. Hurry your buns. Move those legs. We have to get down there.

I think I need a better view. Oh, look. Nyers. I guess I can sit on this hill thingy with them while I look for my letter in this fog. You stay down there, rugrats. You called me old so you don't get to come up.

Human...you need to be committed. 

Or maybe just given a lobotomy. 

Pffft. You left us with nanny too many times, so this is what we think of you. And this is how you pee in the bushes. Eat your heart out, children.

I see it. Look! It's right there. That wanker duck dropped it. Quick. Throw a rock and stop it from floating away. Good shot. You knocked it out of the sky. Now I can get the directions and no churches will need to be set on fire.

Churches on fire? That is mean and illegal, Uncle Pattie.

It's an inside joke, rugrats. Go with it.

Inside like in your body? Did you swallow the joke? Is it in your brain? Can it come out like a worm?

It means...oh heck, I got the coordinates on this antique piece of paper finally so I'll send you to Mommy and Daddy and I'll go on my merry way. I just hope no zombies are waiting for you at home. I think the other letter I lost had your address on it.

Not funny, Uncle Pattie. Yeah. That was a bad inside joke.

I guess you kinda, sorta, maybe got the meaning. Now let's get going before this thing gives me a paper cut or something. Geesh. Who uses real paper anymore? Should have just messaged on Instagram.

Are you there yet? Are you there...yet? Are you there....YET?

I'm so going to change my number so you can't call me anymore. Here I am. Made it.

Make sure she isn't a zombie, Uncle Pattie. Or a vampire. Or...

Goodbye, boys.

Nope. Not a zombie or vampire or...

Pssst. I swiped this from her blog. I don't think she'll mind though. Afterall, it has a certain person's mug in it.
July 28, 2023
© M. Louise (MacBeath) Barbour/Fundy Blue
All Rights Reserved

Turns out my first post for the IWSG was in November 2012. Turns out I spurred someone on to actually join. I'm lucky if I can spur the kids on to do something. (Not really as I've got them trained and luck is fake, but let's go with it.) Turns out she lives far far away. Turns out she didn't at one point. Turns out I didn't exist then. Turns out I do now. Turns out through blogging we connected somehow. Turns out after a decade or so I took a drive. Turns out she was there. Turns out that the rest was history. And in case you didn't follow, turns out it was her I helped "cough" peer pressured "cough" into the IWSG. 

I suppose I shouldn't use cough anymore with covid and all now in existence, but cough meh cough.

Anyway, fun what can be done over time. Even when most of what you did was rhyme. Over the years some may have wished I didn't pass gas while others may have...

Wanted to do this to my little rhyming ass. 

Anyway, that was just a long winded way to say... Happy Anniversary to the IWSG group. I found the group while hopping around. Over a decade ago was sure back in the day. I guess maybe I'm old and maybe I'm a wanker. Hey. At least I'm not a zombie.

Enjoy life, forget the strife.