Tags

, ,

Prompts:

1. Welcoming committee

2. Wicked attraction

3. Rainbow – X-ray glasses – stapler (any or all)

BEGIN WRITING:

There are certain things that Kendra won’t talk about. She’ll bend your ear all day as long as the conversation hovers around her family, or food, or the latest developments in tooth whitening. She’s even been known to indulge in politics at least once, but that was back in the Carter era, and her opinion was met with quiet little snickers and one rather impolite guffaw. As far as I know, she’s never since voiced any thoughts on a serious political subject.

That’s only one of the things she avoids discussing. She also finds it difficult to be even moderately polite when she finds herself in the middle of a discourse on Gabblet, which is the best she can do with the LGBT or GLTB. You know what I mean, the folks who run up their rainbow flags and parade a lot.

How about religion? you say. Don’t even ask. She clams up before the conversation even gets started.

Oh, year, there is one other really taboo topic, and that’s me. I’m still not sure how or when I got on her list, but as of right now Kendra doesn’t speak about me and certainly not to me. I can’t say I mind.

It would be easy to ignore the situation if Kendra had married and divorced someone other than me—twice. Back in the day, we seemed to have a lot in common, but somewhere in our travels down the connubial path we started looking in different directions. She became more and more involved with the fruits of our union, Sam and Isabel, and less involved with me. At least, that’s how I saw it. She’d sit for hours talking on the phone with other women—the PTA welcoming committee, Mommy and Me, Tot Lot—but she couldn’t seem to find time to mention me anywhere in all this.

Okay, so I wasn’t actually in all that. I’m a guy, for cryin’ out loud. I’m not supposed to be a babysitter. I did my share of stuff with Sam and Izzy, but the older they got, the harder it was. So one day I told my wife (she was on the phone at the time) that I’d had enough. She blinked at me impatiently and waved me off. I thought that was as good a sign as any, so I left. I stuck a note under the stapler by the computer: “Say goodby to the kids for me.”

PENCILS DOWN

Advertisements