The exercise:
Our prompt for today shall be: step by step.
Had a successful cross-border excursion this afternoon to pick up a couple packages from a receiving service. Amazon's free shipping within the US made the drive worth it, especially when you add in the thirty cents per litre I saved on gas while I was down there.
Anyway, on to yesterday's doctor's office fun.
Mine:
A step-by-step guide on how to completely change the atmosphere in a doctor's office waiting room, written by Max (age 15 weeks).
* Opening scene: A quiet, solemn doctor's office waiting room. No one is speaking, each patient appears to be in their own little world. *
Step 1: Choose your target(s). In this example, a mother and her teenaged daughter, who have just entered the scene.
Step 2: Say 'Hi' very softly while gazing at your targets with a slight smile.
Step 3: Realize that your targets, with heads down, did not know you were talking to them.
Step 4: Spend the next five or so minutes staring intently at one of your targets. In this example, the daughter.
Step 5: The instant, the absolute *instant* your target looks up and makes eye contact, laugh like a little maniac.
Step 6: Whenever anyone else in the room notices how amazing and adorable you're being, laugh at them too.
Step 7: Continue like this for a good five minutes.
* Closing scene: A happy, laughter-filled doctor's office waiting room. Everyone is talking. A few are wiping tears from their eyes because they were laughing so hard (including my Daddy). *
Addendum from Daddy: Never seen anything like it.
4 comments:
How close to the border are you then? I know I've looked at Osoyoos on the map before but google isn't that great for quickly estimating distances (thanks to it zoom function). Sounds like a nice little trip though, assuming the border guards aren't bored and wanting some fun :)
Max sounds like the life and soul of the party! You're going to have keep an eye on him when he starts walking if he's that friendly with people :)
Step by step
"Step by step, step by step,...." Stephanie could hear her daughter singing softly to herself in the playroom, and smiled. The old Martika song had been playing on the radio five minutes ago, and Therambula (Stephanie had picked the name from her favourite fantasy novel) must have been listening.
"Step by step," sang Therambula again, and Stephanie found herself wanting to continue the lyrics. She finished loading the washing into the machine, and shut the door. As she checked the powder and the conditioner she heard her daughter again.
"Step by step, SPLASH!"
Stephanie straightened and turned the machine on, and then walked into the playroom, curious. Therambula was kneeling on the carpet over a pirate ship, moving a Barbie doll far too large for the ship around.
"Step by step," she sang.
"Side by side," sang Stephanie, still wondering about that "Splash".
"No mummy." Therambula looked up. "There's no room. They have to go one at a time."
"What?"
"When they walk the plank, there's no room. Step by step, SPLASH!" Barbie got thrown over the side of the pirate ship to land on the carpet, and Stephanie gasped.
Therambula picked up a plastic shark from the Finding Nemo film. "He's hungry, mummy," she said. "But now he's happy because he's being fed!"
I'm continuing the thing I started earlier this week. It's a bit more distant from the prompt, but it still inspired it, so I'm sharing. Huzzah.
- - - - - - - - -
After a point I stopped hearing what people were saying, and some time after that people stopped saying things altogether. What was there to say? Too much was up in the air, and even what was up there might not even be there. So we called it quits and called it a night. But our coats were heavier to shrug on, and our goodnights sat more finally.
Carmichael and I lived on the same block, so we walked home in silence. I mumbled something about grabbing coffee in the afternoon. He shrugged; a downer night wasn't much reason to break tradition, but it was mutually agreed that we'd not follow routine if something major happened during the course of the morning and early afternoon. Carmichael watched as I went into my building, and from the peephole I watched him hurry to the end of the street as nonchalantly as he could manage.
For the sake of the neighbors I had gotten very good at ascending the stairs almost soundlessly. But that night new squeaky spots had seemed to appear.
I've nothing to worry about, I thought to myself on the second floor landing. Each step squeaked with my mantra: Nothing's happened. Everything's fine.
I had myself convinced in the last flight up that everything was, in fact, fine. So when I opened the door to my apartment and saw something move in the corner, the door nearly came off its hinges.
"Good morning, sir," said the thing in the corner warmly, and its eyes warmed into its green lights.
"Quinn," I hissed, then came in all the way and closed the door. "You startled me."
"So I see," Quinn chirped with a wince. "My apologies." His arms extended for my coat. I passed them to him and mumbled a thank-you. "My pleasure, sir."
Greg - it's a less than 10 minute drive from our place to the border crossing, then another 3 or 4 minutes to the first town on the other side.
Yeah, that kid just loves people. I hope he doesn't lose that any time soon.
Haha, cute scene. Not sure how I'd handle something like that :P
g2 - ah, a new character in this strange little world of yours. Most curious!
I like :)
marc, love this!
Post a Comment