by Lawrence J. J. Leonard
The smoking lamp went out.
It was time for a square meal.
She was dispensing bromides worth their salt.
“Follow this rule of thumb,” she practically ordered.
“If it rings a bell, be grateful you got all your marbles.
But, if it don’t, then you gotta roll with the punches.”
I was going cold turkey from pinching pockets, but she didn’t care.
She just wanted to chew the fat and blow off some steam.
“Thanks for the leg up. I didn’t mean to play you for a sucker.” I said.
She smiled at me in a way I felt that I finally cut the mustard.
Living hand to mouth would soon be yesterday’s news
as soon as the old man could go legit with his new stake.
All this back and forth and I almost forgot my square meal.
I took a bite and snuck a sip from her cup of joe.
Letting a woman call the shots was a horse of a different color.
“Don’t expect me to ask for one red cent until I,”
she cut me off with a reassuring comeback.
“Look, you passed with flying colors, and I’m in the black.”
I was all for minding my P’s and Q’s but I had painted myself into a corner.
The moment came and I let the cat out of the bag.
“Believe it or nor, I won’t touch your purse no more.”
She knew I wasn’t trying to stir up trouble with no score to settle.
But, keeping her up on my ten year-old outlook would be a piece of cake.
“Bobby is coming over with Rock’em Sock’em Robots. Can I go play, now?”
Copyright © 1960-2016 Lawrence J. J. Leonard All rights reserved.