26 Baby Drew’s dad

John Guss realized he was practically home alone. There was his mother, of course, riveted in her recliner, but with the goodbyes and good-days audible from Regis and Kelly, John knew Granny Guss would be in a coma soon. He knew JoJo was in bed a few minutes early. It wasn’t quite 10:00 a.m. And Joe was out in front. John heard “Rrr rrr . . .” It came from their lawn, as it were; no farther. Even the slightest notion that a leafblower made the sound was ridiculous. It had to be Joe, playing NASCAR again, imagining victory at Daytona or wherever those clods raced these days. It was – the driver’s side door flew open, and Uncle Joe shot out.
“Dreamer,” John sighed, and shook his head at what was coming.
Uncle Joe ran around the rusty, flat-tired Oldsmobile several times, amounting to a victory lap. He cupped both hands in front of his mouth: “Joe Guss, ladies and gentlemen, this year’s champion . . . A big INFINEON Raceway hand for Joe ‘Country Club’ Guss! . . .”
John shut the living room window. His wife was done with “A Hundred Bottles Of Beer On The Wall” and wasn’t making a sound, but she lifted her feet up and down, a couple of inches. Whenever John saw her stepping in place, yet absent the idea of exercise, he feared what was next.
“ONE!” she bellowed. “TWO! THREE! FOUR! FIVE! . . .”
She was his wife. John knew she’d keep going to “TWO THOUSAND!” Except for baby Drew missing from his crib, the house was back to normal. The Crazy Lady was dearly departed, and John had nowhere to go. But now he had half a million with which to be at loose ends.


One Response to “26 Baby Drew’s dad”

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