ME: Look, I need help with this “Throwback Thursday” post.
ME: I can’t think of anything to write.
VAL: Hmmmmm. Oh! Remember that public TV show, 3-2-1 Contact? And when we were really little, how I’d call it “Rumma-Tumma-Summa,” just to piss you off?
ME: It still pisses me off, 40 years later.
VAL: Or how we were our own Dukes of Hazzard sibling pair, driving around in our “car” which was just our two matching kid-sized rocking chairs side-by-side? And how we named our car “The Doobie”—like the Duke boys named theirs “The General Lee”—but nobody bothered to tell us what a doobie actually was?
ME: What? I don’t even remember that.
VAL: Okay, uhhh—how about that time you crawled into an old 55-gallon drum with the ends cut out so you could roll down the backyard hill? You got up some speed by the clothesline and BLAM! crashed sideways into the well-house wall.
ME: Nobody wants to read about my first concussion.
VAL: Nah, probably not. But here’s a good one—when we were in high school, and you sat straight up in bed one night, in the middle of a dream and shouted, “Needs more sauce!”
ME: Oh, for God’s sake.
VAL: Oooh! Oooh! I’ve got it! The time when you were a baby, just learning to walk, and somehow you got behind the sofa and ate a dead spider.
VAL: Why not?
ME: Because Mom swears it was poop, not a spider, and she’ll post something on Facebook to that effect.
VAL: So was it?
ME: Was it what?
VAL: Was it poop?
ME: Forget it. No Throwback Thursday this week.
© R.S. Williams (all rights reserved)