Due to lingering illness and the transformation of my work into an inescapable hamster wheel, my writing here will no doubt be light for the next few days.

This is not to say I will leave you high and dry. I am no Marie Antoinette, secure in my fortress, tossing off a flippant Qu'ils mangent de la brioche. (Truth be known, I am more of a Joan Crawford I-can-handle-the-socks kind of boy.)

Today, instead of laboring over something new, I will leave you with something rather old. Recently, the guests at my friend Lauri’s baby shower were asked to contribute a page to a bedtime-story book for her new daughter. I had my mother scrounge up the first story I ever typed on the computer. Generous soul that I was, I did it for my little brother, who for some reason insisted upon referring to himself as “Baby Bear.” I would not normally be one to encourage such a thing, but I suppose that one's resolve is not quite fully developed when one is six years old.

So without further ado, after a quick cut-and-paste, I present it to you here. Mortification has never been so simple. Thank you, Macintosh!


Baby Bear

Written and typed by David M. Buscher

Baby Bear was walking through his house in Feb. one day when out of his room an elf appeared.

Who are you? asked Baby Bear.

I am the Birthday elf. said the elf.

Is it my birthday again? asked Baby Bear.

No, but I was all tied up on your birthday.

Oh.

come with me to birthday land.

O.K.

Poof! they were gone. When they were in a strange place with lollypop trees and koolaid rivers and lakes. Go anywhere you want but be back by 5 o’clock!

O.K. Baby Bear said running into a field of lollypop trees.

He walked round awhile only stopping to lick a lollypop tree. It was 4:30 when he saw that he was lost. Suddenly the elf appeared and took him home and when he got there he saw a hole lot of presents on his bed, he opened them and this is what he got

baseball bats
star wars stiff
matchbox cars
and a flash light.

The END!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!