Angel

a kid story 

   Little Alphie woke up to his dog, Buddy, licking him in the face.  It was late, the sun was up, and he needed to get up, anyway.   Alphiie loved days that started when he was well-rested, and it was sunny out, with crisp clean air, and his mom had bacon and pancakes waiting for him, in the kitchen, to boot.  He slipped Buddy a morsel.  “Did you sleep well, Alphie?”, asked his mom.  “Yes, mom.   I dreamt I was an eagle.  It was really real.    Like, in color, and I was flying over a city.   I landed on a building, and it was really windy.  Then I woke up to Buddy licking my face.  It was fun.  I want to be an eagle, again.”

     Well, you can be a Scout, and become an Eagle Scout, but don’t get any fancy ideas about flying away, young man.  You know, the rank of Eagle, it’s the highest rank for a boy scout.  When your pa was a scout, he was in a patrol called the flying eagles.  They called it the “fleagles.”   He has many fond memories from Scouting.  When you’re 10 you can be a scout like him.  And when you’re old and die, then you’ll decay and be eaten by maggots.  Maggots are baby flies.   So you’ll be able to fly, one day, you just wait, honey bunch.

    Okay, ma.

(maybe I should stick to blogging)