Dear Diary,

[bldy_cute_molly]

Written in an elegantly tooled black leather-bound book. Said book is held closed with a distressingly complicated-looking locking mechanism which is attached via thin metal and rubber tubing to a slim, but ominous, brass canister bound to the spine.

Interesting.

That door may not be a trap, after all. Which is not to say it wouldn't require some

Comments

[roxy_lovelace]

Well, there goes my anniversary present for you two.

[bldy_cute_molly]

I suspect that if I ever find Mr. G. outside the shop tossing a ball to a Little Clockwork Boy (whoever the maker), then I will know it's time to start doing the opposite of what those helpful little pamphlets Doc Lucy gave me say to do. The ones she gave us when we got married. The ones with section-titles like, "Spontaneity doesn't mean a lack of planning!" and "You can decide when it's time!"

[glanworth_rta]

Wait, I thought we'd discussed the Pneumatic Urchins.

[bldy_cute_molly]

I'd thought the Pneumatic Urchins were more along the lines of an Adorable Band Of Mechanical Minions rather than cherished family-members?

[glanworth_rta]

I figured we could use 'em as prototypes, like. Perfect the design before we keep one.

[bldy_cute_molly]

I'm starting to find your practicality endearing, but just a tad disturbing. I might need more convincing.

Do all Begman wives have to worry about these sorts of things? And isn't this getting us a tiny bit dangerously close to one of the Big Naughty No-Nos?

[rta_mostyn]

Clockwork children! What a fascinating idea! Though given the necessity of upgrading them constantly to eventually acquire fully adult clockwork offspring, perhaps it would be more efficient to just build them as adults to start with and dispense with the whole growing process.

[bldy_cute_molly]

But...but then they wouldn't be all cute! And they would only make clinky-clanky sounds, instead of
adorable little clinky-clanky sounds

[rta_mostyn]

You do have a certain point, there. As a proud owner of both an adorable aestupus and an adorable stuffie squid, I can appreciate the need for cute in additions to a household.

Consequently, I recommend clockwork children with multiple bodies and interchangeable brains, such that you can have an adorable clockwork moppet at family dinners, and then pop out their brain to stuff it into a fully grown competent adult who can tend the shop for you during the days. The best of all worlds!

[bldy_cute_molly]

Obviously those Begman correspondence courses of yours are sinking in thoroughly. I can see why The Mister's been so impressed with you, here lately.

I am now slightly worried about the two of you being in the same room. It might be too much Progressive Thought to be Properly Contained.

[callisto_rta]

Remind me to get you a dog..or a bird. Maybe a monkey? Living...not gold.

[bldy_cute_molly]

I had a monkey! A living one. He disappeared when the Apple was attacked. He's probably off running a tiny little gambling parlor for the rats in lower-city.

If you see a dark, slightly evil-looking voudoun monkey in a snazzy little suit, introduce yourself and say "hi" from me. His name's Kaufre. And whatever you do, don't play cards against him. You will lose.

Now all I have is my brass engagement-monkey. Who is a delight and does not win away a month's pay from me in one evening.

[callisto_rta]

I'll keep an eye out for him. Have you considered tempting him back into the family with an equally as evil female monkey?

[glanworth_rta]

Gonna have a dog too, soon.

[lucy_r2a]

You really do seem to expect me to do an awful lot of yelling!

[bldy_cute_molly]

See, if I expect the yelling, and it doesn't happen, then I am pleasantly surprised. If it does happen, then I am properly prepared. Either way, I have a reduced chance of getting that blank, perplexed expression on my face and saying, "Uhm, uh, wha? Wha'dIdo?"

Anything I can do to raise my perceived intelligence level is probably not a bad thing.

[lucy_r2a]

Well, a lot of it is a matter of age and experience, more than it is intelligence. As a rule (only as a rule, there's obviously far too many exceptions) the mistakes we make at fifteen aren't the ones we make at thirty; or the mistakes at thirty, definitely not the ones at three hundred fifty.

Hence, a lot less yelling than you might expect. :) Heck, you're not MY kid.