Slippery Slopes

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“Are you writing yet Mom? Because you should be writing?” Dobby walks around Mom's chair and looks at her in expectation.

“Umm...yes...of course.”

“Let me see.” Dobby jumps in Mom's lap and leans on the table to get a better look at the computer screen.

“Did I mention how much better you look these days since you relaxed. The faerie dust is being absorbed into the atmosphere nicely. You aren't pink anymore. Your fur isn't lit up and pulsating. There is just a really faint shimmer. It's quite attractive. Really.”

“Mom. This isn't your writing.”

“What do you mean it isn't? Of course it is.”

“If it is your writing you need to practice more. This stuff is all over the place. First it's about tweets then boots then a horoscope then a movie. It's really short and under six different names. Some of these aren't even girl names.” Dobby turns around, leans up against Mom's chest and looks into her eyes. “How many of you are in there anyway? Steve? Steve Martin? Where are you?”

“What are you talking about?”

“A couple of these are listed under the name Steve Martin. If you are Steve Martin, you must have multiple personalities. Before we continue living under the same roof; Mom-- well, I need to meet everybody.”

Mom laughs for a minute. “Okay, kitty. You caught me. I'm not really writing yet. I was looking at Twitter. You have nothing to worry about, I only have this one personality and you have met her.”

Dobby pulls his head away from Mom's and then comes in close to look in Mom's eyes once again. “No Steve Martin?” He asks.

“No Steve Martin.” Mom answers smiling.

“You lied about working when you were on Twitter?” Dobby asks.

“I lied. I'm sorry.”'

Dobby jumps down from Mom's lap landing on the floor. Standing up on his hind legs, with a swift flick of his wrist the 'I'm Incredibly Intelligent' glasses materialize. Dobby puts them on. Pacing back and forth in front of her the interrogation begins.

“How do I know you aren't lying about having multiple personalities then? You've already lied once.” Dobby holds up a tape recorder and hits the play button. Mom's voice repeats, 'I lied. I'm sorry.'

“What is it Grandma says, 'heading down a slippery slope'?”

“Not exactly. But that's close enough.”

“What else have you lied about Mom?” Mom looks down at her feet.

“Is coffee really bad for me?”

“Yes.” Mom looks right at Dobby.

“Do I have such honed hunting skills that I never need to hunt another cricket again?”

“No it just creeps me out when you tear the cricket's leg off.”

“Is a soap and water bath really better than the baths I give myself?”

Mom looks down to the floor. “Your breath is less disgusting.”

“Is the funny white thing in the bathroom really a litter box for people?”

“Yes.”

“Well. I'm not drinking out of that anymore.” Dobby says making a thoroughly disgusted face.

“That's a relief. I really am sorry I lied to you kitty. Are we good now?”

Dobby stops pacing for a moment and looks at Mom. “Okay Mom. We're good. Now...if you would just relax for a moment, close your eyes and open your mind. Go ahead and mentally line all those personalities you have in there up so I can ask the rest of my questions. Let's start with Steve Martin.”