(no subject)
Today the typist lady was sick. Well, she was sick yesterday, too, and it started the day before that, but today she was really sick. She woke up really early, though, and she let me get up and come out, too, and we went to the kitchen and, even though she was so sick, she helped her mother make a breakfast and they took it all into the bedroom and woke up her father and gave it to him with a gift and cards and everything. I sat down in the window and watched and, when they were done, I followed the typist lady back to her room to go back to bed while the family went to church. When she was getting back under her blankets, I asked her why she did all of that if she was too sick to go to church like she usually does on Sundays. She just smiled at me and said “Because it’s Father’s Day.”
I guess I fell asleep, too, because we all woke up, the typist lady and Mr. Pollution and the man called Ghost and me, when her grandmother and grandfather came into the house. She said that they were there even though her parents and sister were still away because their whole family was getting together to celebrate Father’s Day. They get together a lot, she says, and always have meals and stuff for things like this. So when the typist lady’s parents came home and then her aunt and cousins came, we all went out and helped. Mr. Pollution got to take care of the baby while I helped the grandmother make biscuits and the man called Ghost watched the dogs and the typist lady got drinks ready.
They sang a song for “grace” and then we ate and played games and, even though the typist lady was sick and depressed and really didn’t want to be doing any of it, I had fun because they let me do things with them instead of just sitting around and watching all day. But…but when we were out playing games and I was chasing the dogs to keep them out of the way, the grandmother came over and started talking to me. Nobody had really talked to me much all day except for the man called Ghost who always does and it was really nice at first but…
She said that it was really nice that I was here with them but why wasn’t I with my own father for Father’s Day? And…and I didn’t know what to say and I guess I was getting really upset because the man called Ghost came over and said he was tired and asked if I wanted to finish his game for him so that’s what I did. I felt very bad for not answering the grandmother because she was very nice but…
We never celebrated Father’s Day when I lived with the Family. I never even knew about it at all until today. And…and I don’t think it would have gone well with Father anyway but…but it all seemed like such a nice thing to do and it was so much fun and the fathers were all happy and even the typist lady, even though she was sick and upset, seemed happy when she was just joking with her father and…and um… And we looked on the computer and there were all of these messages to fathers and…and I…um… I guess…I guess I started acting a little funny because…because the typist lady and the man called Ghost started to look worried and…and apparently Mr. Pollution noticed, too, because he was the one who came and talked to me and…and he said that I should write all of this and not worry about it so…so…um…
Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Famine.
I guess I fell asleep, too, because we all woke up, the typist lady and Mr. Pollution and the man called Ghost and me, when her grandmother and grandfather came into the house. She said that they were there even though her parents and sister were still away because their whole family was getting together to celebrate Father’s Day. They get together a lot, she says, and always have meals and stuff for things like this. So when the typist lady’s parents came home and then her aunt and cousins came, we all went out and helped. Mr. Pollution got to take care of the baby while I helped the grandmother make biscuits and the man called Ghost watched the dogs and the typist lady got drinks ready.
They sang a song for “grace” and then we ate and played games and, even though the typist lady was sick and depressed and really didn’t want to be doing any of it, I had fun because they let me do things with them instead of just sitting around and watching all day. But…but when we were out playing games and I was chasing the dogs to keep them out of the way, the grandmother came over and started talking to me. Nobody had really talked to me much all day except for the man called Ghost who always does and it was really nice at first but…
She said that it was really nice that I was here with them but why wasn’t I with my own father for Father’s Day? And…and I didn’t know what to say and I guess I was getting really upset because the man called Ghost came over and said he was tired and asked if I wanted to finish his game for him so that’s what I did. I felt very bad for not answering the grandmother because she was very nice but…
We never celebrated Father’s Day when I lived with the Family. I never even knew about it at all until today. And…and I don’t think it would have gone well with Father anyway but…but it all seemed like such a nice thing to do and it was so much fun and the fathers were all happy and even the typist lady, even though she was sick and upset, seemed happy when she was just joking with her father and…and um… And we looked on the computer and there were all of these messages to fathers and…and I…um… I guess…I guess I started acting a little funny because…because the typist lady and the man called Ghost started to look worried and…and apparently Mr. Pollution noticed, too, because he was the one who came and talked to me and…and he said that I should write all of this and not worry about it so…so…um…
Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Famine.