Flying Silverware and a hybrid

By Fred Prout

Question: What did the vulture tell her delinquent male child he was having for supper?

What does that have to do with the title of this story?
Absolutely nothing. But hopefully I got your attention. The answer is below. But only if you read the whole thing.

Sometimes the Home For Delinquent Seniors feels more like the home for the aged and infirm. A few days ago I found myself in a big room. We were celebrating this month’s birthdays. About nine of them. Very large room. Beautiful cake. Eight people singing Happy Birthday to nine people who couldn’t bother to make it to their own party. So… Rather than let it get me down, I searched my memory, sorry, I mean my imagination, and found the following.

I have mentioned that sometimes weeks fly by when you are looking for story material. Other times it literally flies in front of your eyes. Did that just happen? Or did I imagine it?

Maddie is a very lovely senior lady. Very prim and proper. Full of life. And stories. That morning Maddie sat with us at the big breakfast table. In the middle of a fascinating story about the joys of winter in North Dakota, a fork seemingly of its own volition, flew from her hand and landed on Dolly’s lap. At first Maddie wasn’t aware of the flying fork and continued the delivery process of scrambled eggs to mouth.

The rest of the table was aware but agog in disbelief. Said fork wasn’t thrown mid delivery. It just sailed across the table. I don’t pretend to know how it happened. It did and I saw it. Some wag even said “ Keep the eggs Maddie. Step away from the silverware.”

My new friend Tim joined us at the table. I could see he was distressed so I asked if all was well. Between sobs he said that now that he and Caryn were living at the Home he sold his beloved pickup. Not just a pickup, but, a PICKUP. Major lifestyle change and one that is obviously bothering him. But the best part of the situation, he said,they were going to go pick up her new Honda SUV and he would inherit her gently used PRIUS . A PRIUS for crying out loud .

He broke down in tears. As a good friend I have made it my mission to find a cheap bicycle horn for him to make him feel better. If you have one please let me know. I’ll go up to a buck fifty.

Now would be a good time to remind you that all the events and lovely people portrayed in my humble scribblings are strictly the result of a warped mind and overactive imagination. So put down the pitchforks and torches. None of the people and events are real. Trust me!!! Honest!!!

Answer to earlier question: “Carrion my wayward son. Carrion “

With apologies to Kansas. The musicians. Not the state.