It Can Always Be Worse, part 1

Miss Woodhouse

Diane was coming to the realization that it could always be worse. This week was a testament to that. Murphy's law was in full gear and she lamented she wasn't even Irish.

"You'd think I'd catch a break," she muttered to herself.

It all started on Friday morning when her beloved dog, Miss Woodhouse, named for her favorite Jane Austin character, came down with a mysterious illness and by Saturday she had gone to doggie heaven leaving Diane so lonely she could cry. Cry she did, in torrents.

That little cocker spaniel had been her constant companion, her best friend and possibly her only true friend since leaving home to strike out on her own in this big, unkind, unfriendly city. She was so depressed she even considered going back home to the suburbs. Now that was depressed!

Still The Dad

             

“Dad, this is the thing...”

Kevin had a feeling of foreboding when he heard this from his son. He was the Dad, he was supposed to be in charge, yet here he was at the kitchen table facing what looked to him very much like a pair of parole judges in teen garb. He had the fleeting notion he should have acquired the services of a good lawyer. They were smiling indulgently at him, too. Was this a ploy to get him to lower his defenses so they could go in for the kill?

“ You’re the best Dad anyone could have,” Lydia started.

“ You were my coach for almost all my little league teams and you’re at all my football games,” Jimmy said.

       

“You came to my dance recitals and concerts and even took me to girl scouts”

“And you never complain when we have our friends over.”

       

There was a pause. This wasn’t a bad start, Kevin thought, but what else was coming? He had to ask.

“But...?”

No Good Can Come From It

Monster bike

Georgie was certain before she even said anything that they would not heed her warning. Perhaps it was because she was only eight years old. Maybe it was because she was merely a girl. Or it could just be that her brothers were stupid!

John and Paul just never paid her any mind. Despite this, Georgie couldn’t resist telling her two older, and according to them, wiser brothers that no good could come from their newest attempt to create a monster.

Now that's Ironic

 “Alanis Morisett is an idiot! She has no idea what ironic is,” Henry snarled just before flipping the bird to a passing motorist on the early morning, congested freeway.

Gerri bent her head and pressed her lips together to keep for bursting out laughing. Her car pool buddy was in rare form today and that poor Canadian pop singer was likely to take the brunt of his wrath.

“I don’t know about that, Henry. Isn’t it ironic that it should rain on your wedding day? It is supposed to be the happiest day of your life and everything should go perfect. To have it rain on you must be.....”

“Just a tropical depression. Some people like it to rain on their wedding day...something about it being good luck,” he retorted before swerving in front of a tiny smart car.