The Scene: The sitting room and kitchen, Casa Zahringer.

Those Present: Problem Child Bride, Dave, Jane, Kate and Trouble.

Part One

“Koala bears sleep for 22 hours a day” I told Dave, this morning. I had read that factoid somewhere, yesterday.

“Is that right?” he said.

“Yes, second only to sloths, apparantly”. We were quiet for a moment as we contemplated the laziness of koala bears.

“But they still always look really sleepy.” I said.

“Well that’s because they’ve just woken up.” said Dave.

I thought that was a good point.

“Giraffes only sleep for 2 hours a day and never for more than 20 minutes at a time”. I added, full of factoids this morning. “But they always look tired too.”

“Well that’s because they don’t get any sleep,” said Dave.

Also – I had to hand it to him – a very good point.

Part Two

I was talking to a friend last night who told me she’d been watching when her horse recently had 23 feet of intestine removed. (That’s almost 4 Dave’s-worth of colon, should anyone need a visual). It was a massive, long operration and most of the nurses and vets had to rotate shifts because it was such a physically exhausting task, wrestling with coils and coils of putrid gut. The horse, with innards outwards, almost completely filled the operating theatre such that there was hardly any room for the gum-boot wearing, gut-rot wading veterinary professionals.

Apparantly, the only man who lasted throughout the whole slimy man-versus-intestine struggle, was the smallest, slightest, notably most unbuff surgeon, and his endurance impressed my friend mightily. Removing 23 feet of horse gut is, clearly, all in the wrist.

I told Dave about it this morning.

He said “Hmm”.

Part Three

I looked out of the window.

“It’s raining on the other side of the road, but not here.” I told Dave, which was , indeed, the truth.

“Hmm” he said.

Part Four

I sat on the sofa.

“Dave,”

“Hmm?”

“I forgot to mention it earlier but I was approached by a Hollywood agent the other day with a million-to-one fantastic star-making opportunity. He watched me walking down the street, from a cafe and, apparantly, he liked my face and devil-may-care mien. Appaaaahrantly, he just knew that, in me, he had found a great star in the making. I am to play the late, great Princess Margaret in big-budget spectacular called “The Sauciest Gal in Windsor”. Of course, I’ll have to wear a wig, but we start filming tomorrow in Italy.” This was not the truth.

“Hmm,” he said.

Part Five

Kate and Jane and I were on the sofa chatting a short while later. Kate said “My dolly is foolish.”

“Why is that?” I asked.

Jane filled me in: “Because she swammed around and was looking for a fish snack,” she said.

“I think my dolly’s foolish and George (a teddy) told me he was going to Jostim’s house last night when everyone was sleeping and that my dolly swammed and looked for a fish snack. He told me.” said Kate.

Just then, a rumble from behind the newspaper on the other sofa and then, “Have you seen this?” Dave roared, nostrils flaring and disdainfully flicking the Sunday paper with the back of his hand. “Since 1990″ he read,” while median family income has risen 5.8%, the cost of a bachelor’s degree jumped 63% at public colleges!”

“Hmm”, said Kate.

Mouths of babes. Beautiful!

This entry was posted on Sunday, March 12th, 2006 at 10:32 pm and is filed under Fictionoids. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.