The Family Farce is taking an indefinite hiatus. But family endures, and families are fucked up and funny, so we will be back, providing a new and improved brand of the snarky, irreverent humor you know and love.
Anna was tracking a stray, brown cat that we saw through the back door. Then its paw prints suddenly disappeared. I wondered what happened. Rather than investigate, I chose to fictionalize where Brownie ended up. Spoiler alert: he
Amy and I were trying to drive from the SE 14th and Indianola Ave Mister Car Wash in Des Moines to Burlington Coat Factory. (Poppa needs new shoes.) We turned right onto Indianola Ave. A second later, our Dodge Journey
We bought Will an Albert Einstein Funko Pop for his birthday. Before opening it, he shook it, turned it around in his hands, listened to the package, and declared he knew what it was. We asked him how he could be so sure.
He remarked that the Albert Einstein edition was the only Funko Pop he had requested. Thus, it followed that upon receiving a box fitting the dimensions of previously gifted Funko Pops, he would conclude that this, too, was not only a Funko Pop but a Funko Pop in the image and likeness of one Albert Einstein.
He opened the box, and the figure was, indeed, that of Albert Einstein. Will basked in his gift guessing skill, but I reminded him: the gift could easily have been the image and likeness of Elbert Ainstein, little known and forgotten first developer of E = MC2, otherwise known as the theory of special relativity.
Years ago, I owned a Chevy S-10 pickup truck. It had a rotted tailgate; it shifted like I was trying to push a toothpick through modeling clay; and it would occasionally send perfume bursts of gasoline fumes into the cab when the fuel injectors malfunctioned. But I thought it was great.