No ratings.
Flash Fiction |
Bumble Dogs to the Rescue “This is the last straw.” “No, there’s another box in the bottom cabinet…” Jeff said, not even looking away from the TV. “No, I mean this… ahh…” Grammie suddenly realized she really didn’t know where that saying came from, nor how it meant what it usually means. “Do you want me to get one for you?” Jeff said, still looking at the TV. “No, I don’t need one…” Gram mumbled, still caught in her surprising discovery. “Why did you want one then?” Jeff asked, suddenly interested. “I didn’t.” “Then why were you worrying about how many we had left?” “I wasn’t. It was just a saying.” “I know. You said it. I heard you.” “No I mean saying ‘This is the last straw” is a saying…” “I know, I heard you say it… are you alright Grammie?” Jeff asked, suddenly sounding very concerned. “I’m fine,” she answered, “Just thinking too much.” “You know what I do when I start thinking too much?” “No,” Gram said, now intrigued with the possible answer. “I watch TV! You don’t even have to think at all watching TV! It’s like your brain can just go to sleep, and let your eyes and ears take over for a while.” “Now that sounds lovely,” Gram said, “Can I watch too?” “Sure! But what about the straws you were looking for?” Jeff asked, a bit concerned. “I don’t need any straws today.” Gram said, smiling. “Maybe tomorrow.” “Oh! I hope that means we will have some soda tomorrow!” Jeff said, looking back at the TV. “I can almost guarantee that you will!” Gram said, smiling as she sat down to watch the end of ‘Bumble Dogs’ with her wonderful grandson. |