Tinkletoes Takes A Moment

                                               

“Mom...chok-ing me...”   Dobby croaks.

“I'm so happy.”  Writer Lady says through her tears.  “I was afraid I would never see you again.”  She hugs the ginger tabby a little bit closer.

“It's okay.  He's back.”  Tinkletoes says.

Writer Lady continues to squeeze as tears of joy roll down her face.

“Is he supposed to change colors like that?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“What are you talking about?  He's a cat.   Cats don't change colors.”  Writer Lady says as she loosens her grip and holds Dobby out at arm's length to study him.  “He's orange.   See?  Dobby looks the same as he ever has.”

“Thanks.”  Dobby says as he looks up at Tinkletoes and lets out a relieved sigh.

“You're welcome.”  Tinkletoes says.  “It's nice to have you back.   I didn't want to see you die again.  Not this soon, you still owe me a re-match.”

“You must like getting your butt kicked by a cat.”  Dobby responds.

“I'm done letting you win.”

“Letting me win?   You say that like you've been doing me a favor.   If anyone has been doing the favor it's me.  I make sure you have at least a few hundred points before you get rekd.”

“Show me what you got cat.”

“Let's go.”  Dobby looks up at Writer Lady.  “Mom.   If you don't mind.”

“Of course kitty.”  She answers placing him on the floor.

Dobby sits in front of Writer Lady looking at her.

“What's wrong kitty?”

“You got dragon poop on me.”  He says holding out his right front leg.  “I know you didn't mean to, but I'm not licking that.”

“Of course not.   I wouldn't want you to.”  After a few slips, Writer Lady manages to pick herself up, leaving the room she returns with a damp rag.  She wipes Dobby's leg clean.  “All better.   You can go play now.”

Dobby leaves the room making his way into the main house.

“Great.  We get to go play now.”  Tinkletoes grins.

“You don't.”  Writer Lady says looking up at Tinkletoes.

“What?  He...we...”

“First I need help with this mess.   We need to find out how this happened.  Then there's whatever is happening in the living room to contend with.”

“It's poop.  Cleaning up poop.  That's woman's work and besides this is your house as you are always reminding me.  Take charge of what's going on in your house and clean up your own crap.”

“This is my house that's true.  I love my house.  I love taking care of my house.  There is one small problem with it.”

“The roof?   I noticed you're going to be needing a new one soon.”  Tinkletoes agrees.

“The problem is this.”  Writer Lady began; hand out, arm extended gesturing to the mess in front of them.  “Messes like this.  Do you have any idea how many of you are here now?  Twelve.  Twelve!  In this little house and all of you poop!  You make messes, leave stuff laying around, get into things you have no business being in.  Doing crazy experiments!”  She says gesturing to the living room, there is a round of cheering and the sound of more glass breaking.

“I kept my experiment contained.”*  Tinkletoes counters.

“On my feminine napkins.”

“Yeah but they were still contained.  Even the poop.”

Writer Lady glares at Tinkletoes.

“Don't forget I replaced them.”   He reminds her.

“Incorrectly.”

“I gave you money?”  He offers.

“Okay fine you paid for your crime, that time at least.”  She admits.  “This has been a long day, crazy stuff is still happening and I'm tired.  Dobby died today, it took a lot out of me.   I could really use some help.  Will you please help me clean things up?”

Silence echoes throughout the room.  Something in Tinkletoes' eyes change and one corner of his mouth crooks up in a smile.  “So you're admitting that you need me.”

“Need you...what?”  She asks.

“You needed help and you asked me for it.  Admit it.   I'm your guy.”

“What?”

“I will help you with everything when you admit that I'm your guy.”   Tinkletoes repeats.

“You have got to be kidding me.”

“I'm not.”

“Fine.”   She looks at the poop smeared along the surface of the floor.  “I don't think this is toxic.  I'll clean this up myself as soon as I find some gloves.”  Writer Lady says disappearing from the room.

Tinkletoes leans against a wall and waits.

“It can't be toxic.  It was on my hand. If the poop were toxic I would have had a reaction.”  Writer Lady mutters to herself, returning to the bonus room wearing cleaning gloves and carrying a bucket of soapy water.  She kneels and begins scrubbing the floor.   “You know...if you wanted out of helping that bad you could have just said 'No'.  I might not have been happy about it but it would have been okay.”

“Maybe this isn't about avoiding work.   Maybe it's about something else.”  Tinkletoes replies.

Writer Lady looks up at Tinkletoes.

“Maybe it has been about avoiding work in the past.”   He admits.

She raises an eyebrow.

“I didn't say how far it was in the past, did I?”

Looking down, Writer Lady returns to her scrubbing.   “You don't have to say those things to get out of helping.  You can go now.”

Tinkletoes doesn't move from his spot.

Writer Lady looks up, “Really, it's okay, I've got this.”  She says gently.   “You can go now.”

Tinkletoes looks away, his eyes surveying the room,   “No Writer Lady, I think I like it fine right here.  I'm staying.”

*See previous posts “Finding Trouble” and “Out Of Their Gourds” November 2013

Increasing The Velocity of a Cheese Ball

                                                 

“It's not working.”  Dylan says, letting out a sigh and looking down at the track that is now glistening with a generous coating of non-stick spray.

Ray flicks at the cheese ball harder than the last time.  The ball travels the same distance, bouncing along the track quickly at first and then rapidly slowing to a stop.

“Is it absorbing the spray?  The ball might be getting weighed down.”   Peter says from his position standing behind his younger brother who is seated on the floor next to Ray and the track.

“Dudes, something isn't right.  It's not right at all.”

“Maybe it's the track.”  Peter suggests.

“It needs more lubricant.”  Dylan says, standing up, he runs into the kitchen and returns with a large bottle of vegetable oil.   “It needs to be slick.”

“No Dylan.”   Peter says.  “That will make a big mess.”

“Not in the bathtub.”  Dylan says.

“The cheese ball will get too wet.”  Peter argues.

“Don't turn on the water.”   Dylan explains slowly, rolling his eyes at Ray.

“Duude, it's okay.  Some people just don't get science.”   Ray responds.

“If you'll excuse my interruption.”  Diomedes says from his position on the far side of the room, all eyes look up.  “It could be the uneven textures of both the cheese ball and the synthetic pathway you have been propelling it along that is currently impeding your merrymaking.”

“It's a cheese ball.  It's round.”   Ray and Dylan respond in unison.

“Your ball may be circular but because it is a food item that crumbles easily and is designed to hold a fine cheese powder to it, the cheese ball lacks the smooth surface necessary to run along the pathway at the velocity you require.”

“He's right.”  Peter says holding up the plastic ball Ray and Dylan had removed from the plastic track.  “This ball is smoother”.

“Let's make the ball smoother.”  Ray says.

“I know, let's sand it.”  Dylan says.  “I'll be right back.”  The tow headed boy beams disappearing into the bathroom, returning with an emery board.   Dylan runs to his abandoned bag of cheese balls for a visual aid.   “Ray, I thought we could do this.”  He holds up the emery board in one hand and a cheese ball in the other, he starts sanding raining food particles on the floor.  “It's working.”  The boy exclaims and keeps sanding with more energy than before, the particles growing in size until the ball crumbles apart.

“Nice try.”  Ray says.

“Why not just use this ball?”  Peter asks holding up the ball the track came with.

“Because it's not the right ball.”  Ray says.  He removes the cheese ball from the track and holds it up. “This is a cheese ball. It's round and crunchy, cheesy; but because it's round you can still play with it.   A perfect food.”  He puts the cheese ball into his mouth and eats it.

“You do know that the track the cheese ball was sitting in was also used for this ball.”  Peter holds up the plastic ball.   “A ball Dobby played with by pushing it with his foot.”

Ray keeps eating.

“The same foot that stands in his litter box and covers up his poop.”

“Gross.” Ray says.

Peter nods in agreement.

“I should re-think the twenty second rule.”

“Do you mean the two second rule?”  Peter asks.

“If food falls on the floor if you pick it up in twenty seconds it's okay?”  Ray asks.

“It's two seconds.”

“Two?”

“Yes, two.”

“Duuuude.  So what are the guidelines for food that's gotten, furry?”

“Don't eat it.”  Peter says.

“Ever?”  Ray asks.

Peter shakes his head.

“This day just keeps getting worse.”  Ray says shaking his head, he accepts the plastic ball from Peter and puts it back on the track.  Reaching down he pushes the ball with his fingers and it takes off whizzing along.

“The cheese ball wasn't smooth.”  Peter says.

“Velocity.”   Diomedes points out.

“Dude, it's not the same.”  Ray replies.  He pushes the ball along each time it begins to slow, yawning periodically.  “I think I'll just go back to the bowl.”  Ray returns to his dish of cheese balls with a look of defeat.

“Dobby?”   Writer Lady calls hopefully the moment she enters the Bonus room. “Dobby kitty, where are you?  It's me.   It's mommy.”  Turning to leave she finds herself face to face with Tinkletoes.  “He's not back yet.”

“Did you check back there?”  Tinkletoes asks, nodding towards the darkest corner of the room.

“The far corner, by the sewing machine?”

“Yeah.”

“He doesn't like it back there.   If he's not sitting on the dresser and looking out the window Dobby doesn't come in here.  If you'll excuse me...”

“Don't animals crawl into dark places when they're hurting or scared?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Dobby scared?  If he was hurt he would have come to find you.”  Writer Lady points out.  “To show off his war wound.”

“Yeah I guess he would have.”  Tinkletoes agrees.   “Did you hear that?”

“What?”

“Shhhh....” Tinkletoes says holding one hand up, gesturing for Writer Lady to be quiet, he turns his head at an angle paying close attention.

There is a thumping noise and then the sound of glass breaking in the living room.   Reaching out for each other's hand both Writer Lady and Tinkletoes hurry through the darkened Bonus Room and back to main house to find out what's happened.  Writer Lady slips and falls meeting the floor with her own resounding thump nearly taking Tinkletoes down with her.  He quickly rights himself and turns on the lights.

“Are you okay?”  He asks.

“Yes.   I must have slipped, but on what?”  Writer Lady turns her head to find the perpetrator spread out on the floor, her feet, clothes, and hand.

“What is that?”  Tinkletoes asks.

Writer Lady lifts the dirty hand to her face,  “It's poop!  Dragon poop.  I think it was Diomedes, it keeps changing colors.   Diomedes is so polite, why didn't he tell me he made a mess?”

“Face it Mom making poop is something few people want to broadcast.”  Dobby says entering the room from the utility closet.

“DOBBY!”   Writer Lady calls.  With one swift movement she reaches out and scoops the ginger tabby into her arms.

Ray's The Cat

Ray follows Writer Lady into the kitchen, food bowl in hand with Tinkletoes bringing up the rear.

“I have no idea what to put in the bowl.  I don't keep a lot of snacks around the house.”  Writer Lady says as she searches through cabinets.

“Maybe I can just eat what's in here.”  Ray suggests picking up a kibble and putting it into his mouth.  Ray turns a little pale and starts coughing.   “It's a little stale.”  He croaks.

“That's the healthy food.  Dobby has a habit of tasting each kibble and rejecting the healthy food.  It must go stale faster because the kibbles are dampened.”

“So every kibble in that bowl has already been in Dobby's mouth?”  Tinkletoes asks.

“Yes.”  Writer Lady confirms.

Ray pales further.

“I guess it's time to hope the lil' guy doesn't have worms.”  Tinkletoes whispers, patting Ray on the back.

“I try to keep his bowls clean and the food fresh.” Writer Lady says offering to take the bowl from Ray's hand.  Ray relinquishes it all too willingly.

“Do you worm Dobby?  You know, regularly?”  Tinkletoes asks grinning.

“You know I don't.”  Writer Lady says.   “Dobby is a house cat who rarely spends time with other animals.”  Furnatche runs through the kitchen.  “Unless dragons have some kind of worm or parasite...”

Ray coughs.

“Dobby gets wormed every year when I take him to the vet for his shots.  His appointment is next week, I hope he gets back in time.”

Ray stands still, mouth hanging open as if to speak but no words are coming out.

“Don't worry, Ray.  I won't be taking you to the vet.  None of that nasty wormer for you.”   Thinking of something Writer Lady snaps her fingers, Ray jumps.  “I have some cheese puffs in the cabinet.”  Writer Lady crosses the kitchen to pull a bag out of the pantry.  “Okay, they aren't cheese puffs they're cheese balls. But it's a new bag; never been opened.”

“Perfect.”  Tinkletoes says.

Smiling Writer Lady heads for another cabinet to pull out a cereal bowl.

“Uh...uh.  He's the cat.”  Tinkletoes points out.

“Yes he is.”  Writer Lady winks at Tinkletoes to show him she's playing along. “I have a clean food dish right here.” She says pouring some cheese puffs into the bowl and handing it to Ray.

“Thanks.”  Ray mutters.

“Is something wrong?”  Writer Lady asks.

“Yeah Ray.  What's the trouble?”   Tinkletoes asks.

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes with a worried expression.

“It's okay...he'll be his old self in no time.  Short attention span.”  He says.

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes doubtfully.

“If you watch him you can almost see his mind going blank again.  Ray's going to get really quiet and then three, two, one...”  Tinkletoes says.

Ray shakes his head, looks around the room, looks down, sees the bowl, and says,  “Cheese balls, Cool!”

Writer Lady looks at Tinkletoes.

“I'm the cat.”  Ray says, raising the bowl to his mouth and eats a cheese ball.

“Better?”  Writer Lady asks.

Ray nods.

“They're one of Ray's favorites.”  Tinkletoes says.

“Dobby's too.”  Writer Lady says.   “And no.  I didn't feed him cheese balls. Sometimes I would let him lick a little bit of the cheese off of my fingers.”

Ray looks at Tinkletoes.

“Don't even think about it.”  Tinkletoes says.  “You have your food, so get going.”

Ray takes his bowl of “food” into the living room which immediately inspires Dylan to come into the kitchen.  “Ray has cheese balls, can I have some?”   Dylan asks.  Writer Lady hands him the bag and Dylan skips out of the kitchen before Writer Lady has a chance to change her mind.   “Don't spill.  Share!” Writer Lady calls after him.

“So...how are you feeling now?  You still look a little bit sad.”   Tinkletoes holds out both arms.  “Come here.”

“I'm worried about Dobby but I'm okay.”

“It's okay really.”  Tinkletoes says.  “Come here.”

“I'm fine.”  Writer Lady says.  “Thank you.”

“If you change your mind.  I'm right here.”  He says, lowering his arms.

“Okay.”

“Anytime.  It doesn't matter.  I'm right here.”  Tinkletoes stresses.

“Thanks.  I'll remember that.”

“Duuuude!”   Ray's exclamation can be heard from the living room.  Anticipating an argument over the bag of cheese balls, Writer Lady heads towards the living room followed closely by Tinkletoes.

“There's a picture!”  Ray says looking up from his discovery and smiling.   Ray has settled himself on the floor near the coffee table within sight of the television screen.  Dylan is sitting next to him.

“Yes there is.”  Writer Lady confirms.

Ray continues nosing his way through the magical bowl of cheese balls.  “It's a picture of a dog, cool.”  A cheese ball falls out of the bowl and rolls across the table.  Flicking it with his fingers, Dylan sends it rolling along the table.   “Really cool.”  Ray says.   He looks around the room for another place to try out the rolling cheese ball thing.  His eye stops at Dobby's plastic track toy, picking up his food dish Ray crosses the distance walking on his knees, removes the plastic white ball that is usually in the track and replaces it with a cheese ball. Reaching down he flicks at the cheese ball separating the top third of the ball from it's bottom and making a mess.  

  "It needs lubricant."  Dylan says absentmindedly as he channel surfs.  

  "No it doesn't."  Ray argues, brushing away crumbs.

  "Does too!"  Dylan responds.

  "Did you hear something?"  Tinkletoes asks Writer Lady.

  "No."  

  "I think it came from the bonus room."  He says.

  "Dobby, back already?"  She asks.

  "Why don't we go check."  Tinkletoes offers guiding Writer Lady to the far side of the house.  When she has turned her back on the living room and its activities he says.   "This has the potential for experimentation.   Dylan, there's a can of non-stick spray in the kitchen cabinet  when Writer Lady has exited and I turn my back Ray will get it for you.  Let's grease that track up and see what happens."

  Ray, Dylan, and TP nod.

  "If you get caught.  I know nothing,"  Tinkletoes says.