Tales of Text from the High Chair

Alistair Cookie: Narrator Extraordinaire
Campaign poster-child for “Double-Choco-Chip” cookies

Hello again to the readers who love my great narrations. To those who don’t, give it time: I’m cute and funny. Just look at this face; makes you want to pinch those little cheeks, right? Well, don’t you do it, just love me from afar.

Normally I enjoy a trip to the great outdoors. But oh, what to do on those rainy days? You know those inside days? Shh, ready the cookies, and see what I have found to make us all happy. (Crunch, munch, slurp). From my glorious high chair I survey the great land before me. My Papa looks up and smiles so sweetly at me. He has determined that I need a new sand box. This time it would have a lid to prevent my cat Fluffy from entering it. Fluffy couldn’t help herself. She and I would often “text” each other about such things. There were no secrets between me and old Fluffy. This is where our story begins; a tale of text from the high chair. (Ahem, crunch, crunch.)

From the table there came a low whirring sound… and then music! Ah, the fun phone had been left on! Steel drums started banging and tanging, and lots of little people “sanging.” Then I read Fluffy’s text message: “I know you.”

I giggled loudly and texted back: “I.O.U. 2.” It was great fun and I lost track of time texting my cat, enjoying the great banter. That Fluffy has thousands of jokes! I ordered the vendor six pack of 6,000 jokes. Though I’m not sure what a “vendor” is, nevertheless, there are 6,000 citty cat jokes coming soon to a location near me!! (Ha, ha, ha, aha! Crunch)

My Papa returned to the kitchen, and with great excitement, he talked to my Mum. I don’t recall seeing him this happy, ever. Yet, he had thousands of orders he’d received for the new sand box invention. Oh, perfect day!! Even without the shining sun, the room was brightly lit. My Papa went back to his phone, punching in letters, while mine, simultaneously, requested Fluffy’s citty cat vet number.

I asked my Mum, “Is the ‘cc number’ the same number the vet gives Fluffy for a citty cat check up?”

Papa looked up and spoke, “Alistair, please hand me your phone.” At that moment Fluffy appeared and I knew the text time was over. I handed the phone to Papa, and watched as he left for the great outdoors. He stood by the old oak tree for the longest time. He’d look at one phone and then the other. I watched as he began shaking his head: “no, no, no, and no.” Finally Papa’s laughter was really ringing through the trees. I knew he must be reading Fluffy’s jokes.