Past Imperfect

Past Imperfect – #471

Myrna: “Well, then. I guess we should explore our backyard more often. Who knew that you could stand at this part of the fence and see directly into the neighbor’s living room, where they appear to be decorating the Christmas tree in the nude. Is that a thing these days?”

Warner: “I have no idea. But I do know that both of them are going to end up with pine needles in places they didn’t expect. Nothing says poor decision-making like waking up with tree sap on your butt.”

Myrna: “Oh, don’t be such a stick. You’re just jealous that they… oh my. Did you just see his ornament? If he puts that thing on the tree, it’s sure to fall over.”

Warner: “And did you see her voluminous bookends? She must have a tether rope on her foot to keep her from floating away. Of course, when it’s time to top the tree they can just cut the rope and let her bounce against the ceiling until she gets the star in place.”

Myrna: “They seem to be happy, though. Why don’t we ever do anything festive anymore?”

Warner: “Because we’ve been married since Cleopatra was a baby. We’ve done everything fun. Now we’re stuck with each other because no one else will tolerate either one of us. We are fated to a life of bickering and making up on a continual basis, and we have it down to a fine art. Why mess with perfection?”

Myrna: “Oh. Are you wanting to fight now? Because I have plenty of ammo.”

Warner: “I didn’t say that. I implied it, but I didn’t quite go there. Unless you think we should. What does the rest of our day look like?”

Myrna: “We have the Wellingtons coming over for dinner at eight. And you know they’ll stay forever because we have better bourbon than they do.”

Warner: “So we should probably get our daily quibble out of the way. You go first.”

Myrna: “I don’t understand why you do that thing with your mustache. It looks like a very skinny inchworm trying to find a mate.”

Warner: “That was pretty good. My turn. That hat looks like a very sad football, and you didn’t even bother to take the security tag off of it.”

Myrna: “That one was fairly weak. No bonus points.”

Warner: “Yeah, I’m off my game a bit. Seeing that ornament did a number on my self-confidence. Still, can we call it done?”

Myrna: “I suppose so. My heart’s not in it either. I’m clearly past the point where my bookends will have me waltzing among the clouds. Perhaps we should skip this round.”

Warner: “Good idea. Especially since it looks like they are about to sever Helium-Etta’s tether cord. This should be good. By the way, there’s no one else on this planet I would rather trade barbs with whilst standing at a fence and watching naked people do absurd things.”

Myrna: “I know that. Why do you think I bought an annoying hat for the occasion?”


Previously published in “Crusty Pie” and “Bonnywood Manor”. No changes made for this post.


13 replies »

  1. This line “She must have a tether rope on her foot to keep her from floating away” reminds me (yes, story time) of when Older Daughter was pregnant with King Ben. She already had “voluminous bookends” and then a huge belly and propionatly small feet, so I used to tell her we should put fishing weights on the back of her bra to keep her from toppling over.

    Yeah… not worth the build up. Sorry. I guess I’m off my game too.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Oh, no, you’re not off your game, as you’ve given me an intriguing vision. I can just see the two of you, mucking about with the weights and trying to find the exact balance that will keep things from going south… 😉

      Liked by 1 person

    • It’s the “knowing each other so well in a long-term relationship” angle that I was going for, despite all the mildly ribald wordplay. You’re getting very good at figuring me out, which is both thrilling and a teensy bit scary… 😉

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I love how warm and fuzzy this ends up, especially considering how it begins with spying on nude neighbors. That’s the mark of a truly gifted writer, that’s what that is. 😉

    Liked by 1 person

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