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Revenge of the Missing Keys

This morning my wife greeted me with a cup of coffee and a question. "Guess what dad found this morning?" Let's see, what's the only thing my father's been looking for these days? What's the only thing he's been blaming everybody but himself for misplacing? What's the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow?* *"What do you mean? An African or European swallow?" "What? I don't know that!" Bo-iiing! "Auuuuuugh!" "The keys the baby stole?" I ventured a guess, taking a sip of my coffee. And then I took another one. Ouch, it was hot... but it kept me from laughing out loud. I knew the baby didn't take it. My wife knew the baby didn't take it. The only person who didn't seem to know it was my father. According to him, his two year-old great-grandson snatched them out of his hand, stole his car, and maxed out his credit cards playing blackjack in Vegas.  Of course, I'm joking. It was poker. "Wh...
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Funny Shades of Grey--chapter twenty-four

Chapter Twenty-Four    "But really, mom, there's a room right behind this wall," I tell my mother as I huff and puff and fail to move the false wall that Crockett so easily opened.   "Try saying 'open sesame,'" she offers helpfully. "Or 'open, sez ME! '"   "Oh, mother," I say, getting frustrated. "The wall slides right open, I just need to find the switch or the handle or whatever."   "Sure, you do, honey," she answers, sympathetically. "Sure, you do."   I finally give up and crumple sadly to the floor.   "I should have paid more attention," I say, more to myself than to my mother.   "In school?" my mother asks. "Or just life in general?"   She pauses, and then her mothering instinct must kick in, because she tells me, "Ana, your boyfriend, if he really does exist, seems like a nice guy for someone I never met. He is a nice guy, isn't he? He did...
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