Wednesday June 28th, 2017

The exercise:

Write something that has to do with: watch out!

Spent most of the day with the boys so that Kat could get some work done. Miles hardly napped (maybe five minutes?) so it was a bit of a long one, but at least that meant he was out for the night fairly early.

Took them for a walk this afternoon by the beach. Would have been a lot nicer if the wind wasn't howling quite so much. They both liked it, up until we got a face full of blown dirt as we headed back up to Main Street. Then Miles was less entertained by the whole thing.

Back to work tomorrow. Not at all looking forward to the next four days, as Canada Day is this Saturday and things are going to be busy with a capital everything.

I will be happy to have it behind me on Sunday night though.

Mine:

This morning I was in a pharmacy in town with the boys. We needed a couple things for the house, including some razors for Kat.

So there we were in the razors aisle. Miles was in his stroller with Max beside him to my left. I was bent over trying to figure out which brand Kat wanted. There was a lady to my right, also looking at the razors.

She quickly stepped in front of me with a quiet Sorry and ended up between me and the boys. Max's immediate response?

"Woaaah, watch out! There's a baby here!"

My immediate reaction? A startled laugh before burying my face in my hands and muttering Oh my God.

After collecting what she wanted she crossed in front of me again, while turning to give Max an amused Sorry. I managed to tell her something along the lines of That's quite all right.

Oh, the things kids will say in public that will make you want to disappear...

And yes, I am very much aware that much, much worse than that is in store for me in the coming years.

2 Comments:

Greg said...

Good luck with Canada Day! Hopefully things will just require tidying up and putting away (well, for values of 'putting away' suitable for rubbish) and you won't have any more hour-long bathroom cleaning sessions or mysterious dead fish to deal with. And well done on catching up with comments too! I guess I'd better suggest that you keep going for a little while though, otherwise the year-long prompt will end up being precariously at the end of the month for the rest of the year.
Max continues to sound adorable about how he looks after his brother, but I suspect he'll grow out of being so outspoken as he gets a little older and spends more time at school and socialising: peer group pressure is more about conformity than individuality after all. Enjoy it while it's all still spontaneous and well-meant!

Watch out!
The horologist adjusted the jeweller's loupe and squinted into the workings of the watch. It was a beautiful specimen: he'd admired the inlays of precious metals beaten wafer thin already, and the jewels in the face of the watch were, as far as he could tell, flawless. Now with the back off he was having problems.
"I think it's a family heirloom," said the balding, pudgy man who'd brought the watch in. Despite the air-conditioning he was sweating heavily enough that there were little trickles of water running down his face and hanging from his jowls. The horologist had a faintly horrified idea that if the man shook himself it would be like watching a dog after a bath. "Well, I think it's going to have been a family heirloom. Will be going to be having been going to have been a family heirloom? This language isn't good with temporal tenses, is it?"
The horologist forced a smile at the gibberish and stared into the watch again. The escapement was there, fine, and there was a ratchet and paul mechanism here, that's all good, but what exactly what this pointy little thing doing and why was there a cloudly crystal over there? Thoughts collided in his head, and a sudden idea shook him, but took hold like a fish-hook biting in.
"Where did you say you got this?"
"Next Tuesday," said the man. "Oh sorry, you said 'where' didn't you? It will be having been from my son-in-law shortly after he stops becoming my son-in-law."
The horologist stared at him.
"Sorry. It's like that facebook status."
"What?"
"Its... complicated. It doesn't help that you don't remember any of this yet, Jeff."
"How do you know my name?"
"...it might be easiest it you just turn the winding crown a little. Like you were just thinking... just going to be thinking... going to be just thinking about doing."
How in the world had the man guessed that? Jeff looked at the watch again, wondering if the gibberish the man was spouting, the opaline crystal and the pointy thing could all be what he now suspected -- a time machine. Almost without volition his fingers touched the winding crown and put the watch back 30 seconds.
"...having been from my son-in-law shortly after he stops becoming my son-in-law."
The horologist stared at him, and this time the man smiled slightly. "Oh good, you did it. Right Jeff, this all starts with a little girl walking into a bank and announcing that she's got a bomb. You need to go back twenty-two years. And... I say this every time, and you don't listen, but still: try not to fall in love with her."

Marc said...

Greg - yes, that suggestion is a good idea. I'm just trying to put it into practice. Maybe by September the yearlong prompt will come along at a more reasonable time of the month?

Maybe.

Well. That's a clever take on the prompt. A double take, perhaps, with that final line?

Either way. Beautifully written. Amusing, with a sense of darkness looming over it. Great details, as always. And I would be quite pleased to see you continue this at some point.

If, you know, you haven't already in the three weeks or so worth of comments I've yet to read...