A Few Minutes with Betty, Chapter 6: "Strip Clubs in the Basement and Vampires" (or, "Hide in the Box Until Daddy Says Come Out.")

"Hello, my online sidekick."

"Hiya, Betty. Fresh from fffing in the flex?"

"Nope, George's been gone all day. I did rid it of the carseats in exchange for removable boosters; I could keep them in if I need some 'extra boost'."

"Well yes, I suppose you could, but you don't want the kids seeing too much; when they see things, they want them; keep them low, and they can't see things to want."

"I was thinking of just locking the kids in the basement with food littered around; then I wouldn't have to worry about them seeing anything."

"Well, yes, except that's where the strip club is going to be, dammit."

"It's still under construction; I'll leave a small unfinished section just for the kids."

"Don't you have like a garden shed or something like that out in the backyard?"

"The Home Owners Association has an issue with stuff like that; I suppose if I gave them free admission to the strip club, they'd been a little more 'relaxed' about the whole thing."

"Give the officers of the HOA free membership in the strip club."


"(great minds)"



"We are unstoppable as a team; a freakin' laugh riot, I tell you!"

"We are stoppable if only by a mirrored reflection of our own devious powers, or possibly being hit by a Mack truck."

"Well that's why I have no mirrors and stay indoors."

"Are you a vampire? 'Cause that would be awesome, and would explain a lot about why you tend to creep people out."

"I could be, if that would do me some good."

"As long as you aren't one of those weepy, angst-ridden teen vamps; then I would just need to stake you."

"No, I don't do weepy angst."

"Thank God; although, if you did, you could be rich like that lady that wrote those tween vamp novels."

"I know; I am stunned by what sells sometimes."

"I read them; not bad, but I hate teenage girls like the main girl, and the vamp . . . meh."

"My idea of a bodice-ripper is: 'Hey, lady, just get a real man to rip your bodice.' And teenage girls are mostly a chore; I mean I love mine, but they were a lot of work, and number three is not quite done yet; another year or so."

"I can't wait; [insert mondo sarcasm here.]

"Well, I used to pray for the days of no diapers, and then they became tweens, and I prayed for a return to diapers."

"He he he."

"Diapers seemed hard, but they were so much easier; plus the good old days: put them down, they stay where you put them until you come back and pick them up; kinda like gosh, when is she going to start talking?"

"My kids never say where I put them, ever."

"Ten years later: gosh, when is she going to shut up?"

"Although the youngest has been in a box for 30 minutes."

"Maybe you put too much duct tape on the box. I used to do that once in a while when we played 'Hide in the Box Until Daddy Says Come Out.'"

"She did this to herself; she's watching TV."

"Oh, different game."

"I won't say anything to her because I don't want to set her off. She might try to kill me."

"Too small, no weapons."

"I like playing the quiet game. Have I ever told you about my youngest girl? She's pure evil: cute, and deadly."

"Well, yes, she has that reputation."

"She came over to me yesterday, and told me she loved me."

"That's sweet."

"Then later, when I told her I was going to make my hair green, she told me that I have beautiful hair. Five seconds later, she snuck up behind me and screamed. I cracked my head on a cabinet."

"Of course."

"She laughed and laughed."

"'So when did you start thinking that hurting Mommy was fun, little girl? And no, I can't remove the restraints just yet.'"

"I may have to hire you as their nanny. I gotta go, I smell something burning."

"I hope she hasn't set her box on fire. Take care, Betty. Talk to you tomorrow."

April 9, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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