That Thing Over There

My wife and I were sitting in the pool with our six-year-old son when he said, "Let's play 'I Spy.'"

"Okay," I said. "I spy something blue."

"The sky," he said.

"That's right. Now it's your turn."

He stood up in the pool and began looking around for something to describe. He was looking dead at an object when he said, I spy something red."

I peered in the direction of where he had so intently been looking but I failed to see anything red. "It must be that red thing over there," I blurted out in jest.

"You mean the one between the two houses?" he inquired.

Surprised that he had given me the location of the object, I replied with, "Yes. That's the one."

With jubilance he yelled, "That's right! It's your turn Daddy."

His mother rolled her eyes.

"I spy something black," I said.

"The roof?"

I hadn't really thought of anything specific when I said that I has spied something black, but knowing that the roof was black I told my son, "Yes that's it. It's your turn."

He scanned the yard for his next item to describe. "I see something white."

I didn't even try to look up from the pool when I said, "You mean that white thing over there?"

"The one by the pond?"

"Yes. That's the one."

"Yes Daddy! That's it! Daddy, you are really good at this game!"

My wife spoke up. "Okay! that's enough. Daddy is cheating!"

Our son stood up for me. "No he's not."

"How could you say that I'm cheating?" I grinned.

My wife proceeded to explain my secret to our son. He turned to look at me, grinned and splashed water in my face.

"Okay," I said. It's my turn. I spy something green."

My son giggled as he replied, "You mean that green thing over there?"

---

Losing Sight

As one gets older it seems that some things get harder to see. As I was watching cable TV one day I noticed that the descriptions for the television stations had become harder to see. At times, I would have to physically get up and walk closer to the set to see them. I mentioned the problem to my wife who promptly told me that I'm not getting any younger, then informed me that I needed to get past my denial and reminded me that I'm getting older. She reminded me about how old I am getting and told me to get my butt to the eye doctor.

"What does my butt have to do with my eyes?" I enquired.

"Go to the doctor old man!"

This kind of banter went on for weeks before I finally decided that perhaps it was actually time for a visit to the eye doctor. Incidentally, and for the record, I don't think I'm that old.

The ophthalmologist examined me eyes thoroughly. "Well Doc, how bad are my eyes?"

"You probably could benefit from some reading glasses."

"That's it? Reading glasses?"

"Yes, that's it. You sound surprised."

"I guess I am a little surprised."

"Why? Did you really think you needed glasses that badly?"

"Well, I didn't know. I mean, lately, when I'm watching cable TV, I've noticed that the descriptions for the television stations have become harder to see."

"That's it?"

"Yep, that's it."

"I've had quite a few people come in with the same problem lately and I know what the problem is. Would you like me to tell you?"

"Will it cost me extra?"

"No but don't tell anyone what I'm about to say. I don't want to create a panic."

"That bad huh?"

"It's pretty grim."

"Okay, what is it?"

"Okay, here goes. The reason it's harder for you to see the descriptions, and this is according to the cable company, is because they've reduced the font size."

"You're kidding."

"No, I'm not kidding but thanks for the business. Don't forget to pay the cashier on your way out. Oh, and one more thing."

"What's that?"

"Come back to see me again in about a year."

"Why's that?"

"Well, you're not getting any younger you know."

---

Abduction

It was many years ago that I was abducted by aliens. People didn't believe that it happened when I spoke of it at the time and it's difficult for me to speak of my experience even now. It's not so much that folks don't believe that I was abducted as it is the horror of that night. However, it is a story that I feel needs to be told.

I had attended a social event that warm spring evening. Everyone was having a good time around the kegs. On or about 3:00 A.M., being the last remaining guest, I decided to leave since I had also been the first guest of the night. For the first couple of minutes of my journey home everything seemed fine but then it became more and more difficult to control my automobile. I careened from side to side. It was as if the car had a mind of it's own, almost like I didn't have control. It was then that I saw it. The blue flashing light hovering above the road behind me.

"A UFO!" I thought. My adrenaline rushing, I tried outrunning the craft but it must have had me in some sort of tractor beam. The more I tried to get away the more out of control my car became. It was no use. I decided to pull over. Soon I was face to face with an alien creature. It stood about six feet tall and had some sort of shiny scale over its left breast. It grabbed me and threw me onto the hood of my car. "Don't eat me!" I screamed. Suddenly I noticed that I could no longer move my arms. It was if I had on some sort of extraterrestrial handcuffs or something. The next thing I knew I was in the back of its small craft and was hurtling through space amongst an eerie blue glow. I could never be more frightened, or so I thought.

I remember being in a small spinning room. In front of me was this strange machine. They kept putting this tube in my mouth and telling me to blow. "Such an unusual examination," I thought. It wasn't about to argue though since I had heard of worse things that have happened to others on the Sci-Fi channel.

One of them handed me a communicator and said I could call anyone I'd like. A clever ploy indeed. I wasn't about to let them use me as bait to ensnare another victim. I knew what they were up to. I called my wife, "Honey it's me. I've been abducted by aliens. Listen carefully. Run! They're coming for you! They're coming for you! Run baby! Run! 'To Serve Man,' it's a cookbook!" One of the aliens yanked the communicator from my hands and began speaking with my wife. I must have fainted for that was the last I remember.

Surprisingly, I woke up in my own bed the next morning with a horrible taste in my mouth. It was a taste that rminded me of being up all night drinking beer from a keg. I found a note from my wife that read, "This is the last time I do this for you. I've had enough. Have a nice life." It was then that I knew that the aliens had gotten her. I haven't seen her since.

So the next time you're driving down the road in the wee hours of the morning, lookout for the flashing blue lights. If you see them, run. Run very fast. They're coming for you! They're coming for you! Run baby! Run!

---

Tool Thief

Jim knew that Dan was working on a machine and was out of his direct line of sight. He reached down to Dan's tool cart, picked up a couple of wrenches and put them in his pocket. Jim then returned to his office.

Jim walked past my desk as he removed the wrenches from his pocket. He layed them on the table in front of his desk. "Where did you get those?" I asked.

"They're Dan's. I took them off his tool cart to see if he'd miss them."

I chuckled, "He's probably scratching his head wondering where they are."

Later that afternoon, Jim entered the office with another handfull of tools. "Dan's?" I inquired.

"Yep. I think I'll just keep taking his tools to see how long it takes him to realize they're gone."

"How long do you think it will take him to figure it out?"

"I think he'll know it has something to do with me and will come looking for them before too long."

Over the course of the next couple of weeks, Jim pretty much took every tool that Dan placed on his cart. He thought he'd been caught one day when he had an entire armload of tools. He heard voices and, thinking it might be Dan, he peaked around a corner to see who it was. It wasn't Dan but a couple of other cowerkers who wanted to know why Jim was looking so suspicious.

"I'm stealing Dan's tools."

"You're what?"

"I'm stealing Dan's tools. I've been doing it for a while now just to see if he'd notice but so far he hasn't said anything."

"The co-workers thought his was hilarious. Pretty soon Dan was pretty much the only one who didn't know what was going on and, by this point in time, a massive pile of tools had accumulated on the table in front of Jim's desk.

Dan and his assistant walked into the office and sat down next to the small conference table. Dan started to put his feet up on the table but reached over and pushed the pile of tools out of his way. Once he had made room, his feet went up on the table. I looked at Jim and he looked at me. It was all we could do to contain ourselves. Dan had looked at his own tools and pushed them out of the way so that he could put his feet up. It was just too funny.

A couple of more weeks went by and poor Dan just didn't have many tools left to take. Jim arrived in Dan's office with a good sized cardboard box.

"What's in the box?" Dan asked.

As Jim poured the tools out onto Dan's desk he said, "Your tools. I've been taking them for weeks."

Without cracking a smile Dan replied, "You know, I thought I had more tools than that."

"I don't see how you could work on anything. I had all your tools."

"It really wasn't a problem. I had plenty of tools," said Dan.

"What did you do? Borrow someone elses tools?" laughed Jim.

"Something like that," Dan replied. He opened the large drawer of his desk. Inside was a large pile of Jim's tools.