Thursday, February 21, 2013

A letter to my son in Navy boot camp from our mummified turtle

When my son was still walking back and forth to school, instead of marching up and down the square like he's doing now, he happened upon the treasure of this dead and mummified box turtle lying there on the side of the road. 

 
 
Of course he brought it home so we could all have a good poke at it.  Including our cats who made it a cuddle companion for weeks on end.  Not being the squeamish sort, I sat the turtle on the middle shelf of my hutch for display and there it's stayed.  His little mummified nose looks out across my living room.

This letter is from him...or her...it?  It's from Turtle the Former.



Dear Turtlenapper,

I don't know why your mother put me up to this.  She seems to think I have thoughts in my head that I wish to share.

Well, I don't.  You picked me up off the side of the road and then you let those cats use me as a toy and then you have ignored me for the past year.  When I was a wee little turtle I sure did dream of growing up to become a stinking knick-knack.  No one dusts my shell.  No one.  Don't think I don't notice. 

But, I do see you and all your goings on.  Oh shuddup, I know I don't have eyeballs anymore.  I see you from the afterlife dumbass.  I've seen you watch those YouTubes with all those cartoon turtles in them.  What do they call that Pokemon poser...Squirtle?  What a wussy name.  It's special Pokemon superpower must be sharting. 

Speaking of sharts, I hate those cats.  If they aren't sleeping they are running around like fools or sticking their faces in their own backsides.  Stupid animals.  At least your parents haven't gotten themselves a dog.  It's bad enough the way they talk to those cats with all their cutesy names for them but a dog will drop their already straggling IQs dangerously low.   Your little brothers might starve....they couldn't even figure out how to make toast.

Be glad you escaped from the house when you did.  I can see it all going downhill from here.  Your little brother is just entering puberty and I can smell him coming from down the hall.  Your littlest brother has begun sleeping in a box.  Without the Navy you might have begun to pierce parts of your body no one wants think about you hanging chains from much less see it with their own eyes.

Again, I know I have no eyeballs.  What the hell is your point? 

Time to go.  I've got crap I've got to do.  Like sitting here.  All day long.

Whatever.



Turtle the Former


                                                                                                                                                                                                                    

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