Today’s assignment asked me to write a post to my Dream Reader – a specific someone I hope will read my post. I’ve picked a friend of mine who is having trouble smiling right now. I’m writing to her in hope that reading about my antics will help shift a little more of the dark cloud around her heart and that her sunshine will burst through again soon.
I wasn’t sure what to write today. Then inspiration struck in the form of a lost item of laundry. The other part of the challenge was to include a new element to your blog to mix things up a little. Tonight I’ve elected to write this post as a script. I hope it makes you smile.
PS. I haven’t missed days four and five of the challenge. They were more to do with creating a community and refining the look of my blog – not something I felt inspired to write about.
Scene: the top floor balcony of a small apartment building. It is approaching midnight. Looking-glass mama is hanging out washing with her husband.
Looking-glass mama: where do you want me to start?
Husband: I’ll do the kids’ stuff, you start with those piles of shirts that I’ve carefully sorted and draped over the edge of the balcony.
LGM goes over to the piles that her marvellously organised husband has carefully sorted and draped over the edge of the balcony. With the grace of a club-footed bear LGM moves over to the pile and picks up what she believes is the top t-shirt. It soon becomes apparent that it is not the top t-shirt as the real top t-shirt flutters down to land on the edge of the balcony of the flat immediately below them. What follows is the exact language used in the official transcript of the occasion.
Looking-glass mama: (peering over edge of balcony) oh golly gosh.
Husband: what’s the matter, oh darling wife?
LGM: um. It seems to have come to pass that I have ever so clumsily knocked one of your most oft-worn t-shirts off your carefully sorted pile.
Husband: that’s no matter. It can be retrieved from the ground at a time after the present moment.
LGM: it did not make it to the ground. It appears to be artfully displayed on the edge of the balcony below us.
Husband also looks over edge of balcony.
Husband: oh golly gosh. How on earth did you manage to achieve such a miraculous occurrence? You must be in possession of great talent.
LGM: you’re too kind. But that is beside the point. How will we set about retrieving the shirt when it is almost midnight?
LGM: we can ask our downstairs neighbours to retrieve it in the morn.
Husband: that is a most excellent plan with but one flaw.
LGM: what is that flaw?
Husband: no-one resides in that dwelling at present.
Silence as both peer over the edge of the balcony.
LGM: that does indeed present us with a challenge.
Husband: have you any superior brain processes that might provide a solution to said challenge?
Long, definitely-not-pregnant pause
LGM: might there be a strong wind on the morrow?
Both check their i-Fruits.
Husband: it is not so. Let me put my grey matter to the task.
Exits stage left; returns with a broom.
Husband:I will attempt to dislodge it using this common household object.
Begins to lower broom over the balcony.
Husband:Alas, it is too short.
LGM: we need to lengthen it. It would be my recommendation that you halt any further attempts until we resolve this issue lest you cause either the broom or your kind self to fall three floors.
Husband: thank you for your concern for my well-being. I shall indeed do as you suggest. A new potential solution has entered my mind.
Again exits stage left; returns with LGM’s baby sling and proceeds to attempt to tie it to the broom.
LGM: I would strongly advise you to cease and desist if you value your presence on this planet. Allow me to suggest another alternative.
Exits stage right; returns with a pair of stockings.
LGM: these are a fraction of of the cost and will most assuredly ensure the broom will reach.
Husband glances at them doubtfully.
Husband: I respectfully question your intellect in this instance. Surely an item of lingerie does not possess the tensile strength required.
LGM: ah, you doubt my mental acuity? I shall make a believer of you yet!
Husband shrugs and takes the stockings from LGM.. He attempts to tie them to the top of the broom handle. The hook is missing, causing the stockings to slip straight off.
Husband: I love you with an undying passion. But sadly I must again question your sanity in suggesting this absurd solution!
LGM: fear not, husband.
Produces large roll of gaff tape.
LGM: there is no problem that may not be overcome by the liberal application of this legendary adhesive.
Husband: ne’er was a truer word spoken.
Working as one, they wind four times the amount of gaff tape around the stockings and broom handle. Husband carefully lowers the broom over the balcony guides it towards the t-shirt.
Husband: huzzah, it has sufficient length! How fortuitous that you are a woman of great height.
LGM: beware! There is a significant chance that you may lift the shirt off the balcony edge and cause it to descend onto the balcony proper. It would thus be lost to us forever.
Husband: well, at least till the next open house. Your warning is duly noted.
They both watch with baited breath as husband hooks the broom underneath the t-shirt and carefully lifts it from edge. A deft flick of the broom sends it fluttering safely to the ground below.
Together: most joyous result!
They celebrate with the highest of high fives and husband lifts the broom to safety.
LGM: ah, what a happy ending. Will you now journey forth and retrieve your prize?
Husband: nay, I shall not. I thought to leave that honour to you. I see by your withering stare that will not come to pass. It matters not. There it can lie safely till the sun peeps gently o’er the horizon.
LGM: a most wise decision. Shall we to bed?
Husband: an excellent suggestion.
They both exit stage right.