This morning Beautiful Alice came by and hung out for a bit. She made us both a cup of tea and scooched the dog over so she could sit on the sofa.
"I saw your blog. Nice work! It was funny and Aunt Sylvia was really tickled. The thing is..."
"Jas, did you notice anything unusual about the theater or the people there?"
"Not really." I said.
"Sweetie, you're a trained anthropologist..."
"I'm sorry. I was fighting the urge to run."
"The movie you reviewed? It doesn't open until tomorrow."
"Oh, crap. It was so long ago and I've been mixing up dates all month. So um, how screwed are you?"
Alice sat back against the dog. There was a deep sigh and I wasn't sure if it was her or the pooch.
"Does anybody read this blog? I mean other than your family."
"I'm not sure. Maybe a few friends. Chances are, no one even read that far."
"Actually, there were a few people at the paper who read you pretty regularly. I linked them in when you wrote the alternate ending to 'Ole Yeller'."
"That was good wasn't it?"
"Focus, Jas. I'm sorry. They did talk me down. You do spare me having to deal with too much of the Keanu thing and for that, I'm grateful."
"Well, uh, yeah. Yeah! You should be grateful. Who took your aunt to see 'The Lake House'? Hunh? Yeah? It goes both ways."
"You're pushing it, Jas"
"Okay. I do fell bad about this. Really. Seriously and for true. I promise. How can I make this up to you?"
Alice didn't bat an eye. She didn't hesitate. Her delivery of what the proper reparations would be was swift.
Yes, baked goods. And make them cute. Maybe even...churchworthy."
"You've got coffee klatch at St. Tabitha's this Sunday."
"YES!" Alice collapsed into a teary puddle of person against O'Neill's furry side.
"Vanilla cupcakes with candied violets?"
I'm sure there's a lesson here somewhere, although the only thing I can take from this tonight is that I should keep better track of my day runner thingie and that there's little in this world that can't be fixed with a good homemade cupcake.
copyright 2008 Jas Faulkner