Friday, October 17, 2014

Dear Readers, you might recall “the cat on the fan.” For months now, mom has been seeing the cat on the fan. There was no dissuading her. I tried to show her how the bolts and the motor on the fan were just that: bolts and a motor. But she insisted. Everyday, she would remark with wonder how the cat could stay up there so long. That cat is still there! Through cold and heat, snow and rain, day and night, month after month, it was a cat. But hours ago, the cat became a dog. And now, it’s a boy!

Look at that boy on the fan!

Mom, how can a boy live on a fan?

I don’t know. But he’s always up there.

What happened to the cat?

What cat?

You used to see a cat up there!

I never saw a cat up there! It’s a boy. Can’t you see him?

There are some things I am not privy to, mom. Only you can see him. 

Who am I to argue further! Maybe she does see a boy on the fan. He might have chased the cat away!

I decided, however, to pursue the dog part of her vision. Maybe Lucy had come back to visit.

Mom, what color was the dog?

What dog? I never saw any dog?

You told Rob you saw a dog?

No. I never say any dog.

Rob overheard this exchange and concluded that mom—like those in the White House—didn’t even know about Benghazi until she read about it in the newspapers!

Good night little cat, or little dog, or little boy on the fan.