Grandma’s Jug

Grandma has this old jug she uses to water her plants. It’s made of tin, with white paint and a bit of blue and red paint here and there. We think someone made it for her when she was younger. No one is quite sure. 

Her grandson cannot understand how this crappy old jug seems to be back in fashion again. He’s never understood this fixation with idle objects.

He’s mischievous and often goes looking for insects, animals, and anything that crawls about.  Once his mum found a spider’s nest in his room. It almost frightened her to death. Now she won’t let him have insects in the house. 

One day he took Grandma’s jug for a walk to the termite mound; a dirt fortress for insects. He thinks of the king and queens inside, the workers, and the soldiers. There’s a whole world inside.

Inquisitive about how things work, he pours water into the mound to see what happens. Water starts to leak out of the various holes in the mound, but there isn’t much damage.  He examines the termites on the ground. Some have wings and some do not. He thinks, “Perhaps Grandma’s jug is useful.

Not wanting to hurt any of the insects, he retreats for the house. In a few days, he will check on the termite mound to see the results.  Not only have the insects repaired the mound, but it has increased in size. 

He scribbles down a note, “Experiment number 251. Termites like water.

Toaster Tale

You always liked to play games. Sometimes sweet. Sometimes spicy.

One day, we stood in the kitchen talking about your kink for tasty toes. You often joked that you would love to set my feet on fire. I thought you were just being a bit creative.

One evening, as we sat in the lounge room, you bring the toaster to me. There’s a weird look on your face. I ask you ever so casually, “What are you doing?”

“I’m understanding the fire of feet…”

“What the…? You better not turn it on! No! Wait! Don’t put my toes in there! I shall kill you!”

“I won’t turn it on, I promise.”

“…You’re so weird…My poor feet. They cry in terror at the thought…”

“I would roast my toes for you baby.”

“No, you won’t.”

Suddenly, his toes are in the toaster.

“Please don’t turn it on!