This past Wednesday, Tony, Carol and I received a large box, filled with very cool Christmas presents, from Cheryl and Walter, our dear friends, that we love and who always keep us laughing. Anyway, Carol came over Thursday evening, to pick up their Christmas gift and while we were admiring the gifts that Cheryl and Walter had given to us, Tony grabbed one of their presents to him, which was an Alien Egg—guaranteed to hatch out within 24-36 hours, if he closely followed the incubating instructions. With my best friend and me sitting at the kitchen table laughing, Tony declared, "It's time to hatch my alien egg!"
After Tony had carefully removed the fragile alien egg, from the box, he filled a glass with luke-warm tap water and then he gently put his alien egg into the glass of water and it immediately sank to the bottom of the glass.
"Now what happens?" Carol asked, before we all started laughing, again.
"We must wait," Tony said, as he watched his alien egg do absolutely nothing.
"And we must speak softly," I teased. "I've heard that alien eggs are real sensitive."
"Then we had better quit laughing," Carol whispered, because she didn't want to upset Tony's alien egg. Then she told us one hilarious story about what she did one time with her Sea Monkeys.
Friday morning, when I got out of bed, the first thing I did was skip into the kitchen, to check on Tony's ultra-sensitive alien egg. Then I took this picture, so I could document it and record it for history.
Friday night before Tony and I went to bed, I checked on Tony's egg and I was amazed at what I saw. So once again I took another picture, to document it for the science community, that supposedly lives somewhere in the Texas Hill Country.
I didn't sleep well Friday night, because I couldn't quit worrying about Tony possibly being responsible for creating an alien monster, inside our thirty-year-old trailer. I visualized cars backed up, bumper to bumper, outside our rescue ranch, waiting to view Tony's alien friend or monster, sort of like they did in the movie Field of Dreams. I also kept trying to come up with names for our alien baby, that was soon to be fully hatched and the only name that I came up with, that was halfway descent was, Little Buddy. And I also had a nightmare about Tony being arrested for illegally hatching out aliens and that I would have to hire someone to do his job, at the rescue ranch, because good help is so hard to find these days.
Saturday morning, the first thing I did was take a baby Aspirin, so I wouldn't have a heart attack when I checked on Little Buddy and it was a good thing, too, because Little Buddy had nearly hatched out of his egg. After making sure that he had the right amount of arms, legs, toes, fingers etc. I happily took Little Buddy's first, alien baby picture, to share with the world.
When Tony returned home from drinking coffee with his friends, at the Old Timer, in Medina, I congratulated him on his successful, scientific project. Then Tony looked at Little Buddy, inside the glass of water incubator and then he carefully removed him and dried him off, so I could take Little Buddy's second picture—sitting in Tony's hands. He's too cute!
As you can tell, I am finally in the holiday spirit and am no longer stressing out about the holiday season, so I wanted to write a funny tale, that I hope made y'all laugh. As I finish writing this corny post, we have sweet Ginger Rogers and her five, adorable three-week-old puppies, in my office, sleeping peaceably and Little Buddy resting above our kitchen sink, in the middle of the top shelf. Life is good.
Y'all have a great evening! (And thank you, Cheryl and Walter, for keeping us laughing! We love Little Buddy and please know that he is in good hands, but please don't tell anybody! I don't want Tony going to jail or us having a pile of cars lined up, outside the rescue ranch every day, to get their pictures taken standing next to Little Buddy, in our kitchen.)
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