Garden sign said she wants coffee. I don't know where to take an unknown number of cups --are there guests, people in the woody end?-- but I ignore it at my peril. Where did I leave that? Pumphouse, not because it contains peril but a treasured boyhood book I read, "Planet Of Peril", by Otis Adelbert Kline and the mind wandered: Perils Of Pauline? Perils before swine? Swine, wine. What wine with swine? Cabernet, I decided. And they want coffee? There was a wet lump on the underside of the doorknob. I brought it up on my finger and said, "Not again! Are you all right?"
"I think so. Just set me on the sill."
"Certainly, little doorbooger. But you shouldn't loaf under the knob."
"I know. I always forget. But you must admit, the doorknob is safer than getting into the door jamb. People close doors and we have awful accidents in there --again and again. See that mummified flap of flesh at the hinge? That was my father."
"I'm so sorry!"
"No need. He was an idiot."
"Surely not."
"Ok, look between my eyes. What do you see?"
"I see a sort of concavity."
"And?"
"Empty space, nothing."
"Exactly, I inherited that, yet between your eyes is a great cranial vault bigger than the flower pot that five generations of my family call home."
"But surely, your place on the evolutionary ladder equals mine, doorbooger.""Don't call me that. My name is Darwin."
"You mean...how do you know about Darwin?"
"Us treefrogs are all psychic. We just looked in your mansion-sized human brains and named ourselves after the deal that gave the most reasonable explanation of us.
"So you can see Charles Darwin in my brain?"
"Yeah. We got OBE."
"What's he saying?"
"Not a helluva lot.""You did that by Out-Of-Body-Experience?"
"No big deal. Every body who isn't you is having one right now."
"That's amazing! And it would compensate for your lack of cranial capacity."
"True, on our own we have poor memories. By the way, aren't you supposed to be brewing coffee? And that book, it's green, bound in buckram."
"Oh yes, thanks for reminding me."
"Of what?"
I'm such a doofus, I still get excited at the sight of one of those cute little tree frogs. But alas, it never occurred to me to engage one in conversation before. Now, thanks to you, I know better. Another fun post.
ReplyDeleteMy great cranial vault is half empty, which undoubtedly explains why I'm a pessimist.
ReplyDeleteI've heard of a dormouse, but I've never heard of a treefrog under a doorknob. Of course, all my cups of coffee are consumed at home, so I don't have many opportunities to see any doorknobs other than my own.
I've heard of Perils of Pauline. Pearl White was from Springfield, MO where I used to live. There's nothing profound in this - - I just thought I'd mention it.
Another lovely flight of fancy! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteAnother lovely flight of fancy! Thanks!
ReplyDeleteSusan-- Thanks, we need fun right now.
ReplyDeleteJon-- No, there's profundity of memory. I remember Pearl hopping the ice floes in some episode. Exciting in any era. Suspected you might be at least partially from Missouri.
Will-- You can say that again --to my blushes and Thank YOU, my friend.
Don't trust tree frogs. They're just waiting for the return of Joan Crawford to take over the world. And knowing thay can OBE changes up the game even more! Good intel collecting Geo.! Vive la resistance!
ReplyDeleteThis happens to me all the time.
ReplyDeleteFreakin' amphibians.
Pearl
Austan-- Treefrogs do indeed seem to be waiting for something. I figured bugs, but yes, now that you mention it, Joan Crawford is a distinct possibility.
ReplyDeletePearl-- I strongly suspect Darwin Doorbooger and his family are congregational amphibians. Freakin' amphibians have somewhat more exuberant services.