Some sixty eight years ago, I was snatched from the womb, with much the same fanfare one would have picking up a rotisserie chicken at the grocery store and tossing it in the cart. Arriving from the other side, I was well aware of my mission, expectations and purpose. Why the briefing I can only imagine, as within seconds I had no recollection of it. My earthly time began hanging upside down and for no apparent reason, beaten on and about my buttocks by a giant and having the event and my weeping celebrated by the grinning idiots in attendance. Deemed not nearly traumatic enough, a teet from the mothership was shoved in my face. Years later, the giants are bewildered over me not being well adjusted and/or suffering/enjoying sexual quirks but that’s a whole other story.
We are assigned to a couple, though often haphazardly and one or both often lose interest. For those that stay for the adventure, it’s often found they are as ignorant as their science project. The giants are not trained as well as they might be. Pavlov's dog theory plays a part:crying equals being picked up or fed and defecation prompts changing and a bath. The supposed caretakers applaud each other on the outstanding job they are all doing but their true talent doesn’t come to light for another generation as grandparents. Why in hell we aren’t born to the older humans, off the top escapes me. But no longer privy to the master plan, we have to play with the cards we have.
We remain with the mothership four years or so until they’ve apparently had enough. Left to our own devices in an education module, we experience trauma, assault and betrayal and that’s from the classmate we have anointed our best friend. My attempt to organize and take over the tall people is unsuccessful, but they know my name, oooh they know my name. Kindergarten abounds with traitors, who would become confidential informants in order to curry favor. They’ll get theirs.
As the years pass we privately enjoy the special perks of advanced education. Larger desks, is a big one but it’s payback time. The ‘rats’ who thought they could go unscathed and be small and cute forever, after their incessant tattling were to meet their justice. DodgeBall is introduced and the body count is impressive. Allegiances and human character change or are altered in some cases and later in life, “it all comes out in the wash.”
The cycle of life goes on and if you stay long enough, it once again becomes vogue to randomly fill your drawers, clap and laugh hysterically but it’s nearly impossible to get up a good game of peek-a-boo.
wjk/2/18/21/468
Well done, King.