Three Questions

Ruth: Question 1)

What do you want to be when you grow up?

Lucy: Braver. I want to be fearless, like a mighty Amazonian, or perhaps Boudicca. I sometimes think I don’t stand up for myself enough. Alternatively, a labrador. They always look like they’re having such a good time.

Ruth: Question 2)

Scenario – you are locked in a room with a baby on a stool (precarious)…

Option a) punch the baby, the baby will not be fine, but no one will know

Option b) don’t punch the baby, the baby is fine, but everyone will THINK you punched the baby when you come out.


Lucy: You are terrifying. I choose option B. The martyrdom of it appeals to me, in a weird way. I would know. And take comfort in my saintliness, even as I was shunned.

Ruth: Question 3)

will you write a blog poem; a poem especially for the blog; a blogem; a poeog?

Really, what I want is
For everyone to love me.

Especially you.

I know, though,
That saying it that way
Would be counterproductive.

Instead, I will say
“Hey! Did I tell you about that time a mildly amusing thing happened? My reaction to it was quirky enough to be interesting but not so extreme that it paints me in an unflattering light! No? Shall I tell you now?”
And hope you grasp the subtext.

You probably will.
You’re so clever.

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