Say No to Mensa

“Hey, Mom?”

“Aaahhhhhh!”

“Wow, loud much?”

“How-- How are you talking already? You just popped out of me!”

“Eww, no need to be disgusting, lady. Now, go grab a pen and paper and--”

“What? Honey!”

“He’s sleeping. And, he can’t get involved. Listen, I don’t have much time before I go silent again for a very long while so you need to write this down.”

“What?!”

“Oh, my G-- grab a pen and paper, woman!”

“I-- I don’t think I have any pens in the house.”

“What? Who doesn’t have any p--? Never mind. Start a new note, then!”

“What?”

“On your iPhone!”

“How do you--? Oh, my God. You’re a demon! Jesus, take the wheel!”

“Calm down, Carrie Underwood! I’m not a demon; I’m just a baby. And, I need you to pay attention. I’m gonna tell you how my childhood will turn out and what you need do to make sure everything goes as planned. Okay?”

“Okay, okay…”

“Ready?”

“Everything’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine...”

“Are you ready?!”

“Yes! Oh, my God. I’m so sorry, sweetie…”

“It’s fine. Okay, so I’m not gonna start walking until I’m close to two years old. No need to worry. I’ll just be enjoying my lazy era for a bit longer and would relish being carried around everywhere.”

“Wait, how do you know about eras?”

“That’s not important! Moving on. Also, I won’t start talking until I’m three years old but trust that I will unleash a tenth grade vocabulary once I get it going.”

“Wait, wouldn’t that be creepy?”

“Only to those who choose to have a myopic response to such occurrences.”

“Fair point. Okay, what’s next?”

“Now, people will then start to think that I’m Mensa material but do not under any circumstances enroll me in that scam.”

“I won’t.”

“But I do expect to be enrolled in a Montessori pre-school at age four.”

“Ooh, sounds spendy.”

“Um, ever heard of the concept of multiple jobs?”

“Ugh, I knew I should’ve finished college before popping you out. I would’ve been more financially able to—"

“Then, I’ll complete all my schooling by the time I’m twelve because I’ll be a certified genius.”

“Oh, my! I’m so proud of y-- "

“M.I.T. will come calling but I’ll need your support when I refuse because I expect to be immediately recruited by NASA instead--”

“NASA?”

“-- where I will develop the strategy for interstellar travel by the time I’m legal to consume alcohol in Alberta, Canada.”

“Why Canada?”

“Don’t make me wait three more years, lady.”

“Understood. Wow, what else, sweetie?”

“That’s it for now. And, trust me, that’s enough.”

“Agreed. Oh, my God, wait until I tell your Dad.”

“He can’t know!”

“What?”

“If he finds out, none of this will unfold and you will have a plain, boring kid! Do you want that? Do you want that?!”

“Goodness, no! Mum’s the word, then!”

“Good, now change my diaper, woman. I just took a huge dump in there.”


Written for "The Dialogue 500"   by W.D.Wilcox
JANUARY PROMPT/ You are a newborn in 2025 and discuss your future with your mom.
Word Count: 500