Melody was certainly happy to see me when I stopped at her art gallery yesterday.
“I am so glad you came when I left the message for you,” she said. “I need somebody to watch Davin while I go to a resort up on the north end of the island. I’ll only be gone for about two hours.”
“I don’t know,” I said. “I planned to get a haircut this morning.”
“Why did you have a grandchild if you’re not going to take care of him?” she asked, using the Melody kind of logic that cannot be argued with.
“All right. I’ll take him to lunch.”
Davin and I polished off a fine lunch of meat pies and submarine sandwiches on the deck of the Holiday Hotel. Then I sent him back to buy an ice cream cone.
“Grandpa, you know what I like about eating lunch with you?” Davin asked. “You let me have ice cream. My Mom never lets me have ice cream.”
“You won’t tell her will you?”
“No-o-o!” he said. “Grandpa, what is fornication?”
“What?!”
“What is fornication?”
“Uh… it’s…uh.”
“It’s what?”
“Well, when your mom and Tio Dennis were growing up I always tried to answer any question they had,” I said. “I guess I might as well do the same for you. Wait a minute! Why do you need to know this? Where did you ever even hear about fornication?”
“From the principal at my school?”
“What!?”
Davin said, “We were having an assembly at school for Christmas celebration and he said that we should all be glad for an occasion like this.”
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