BLOG: 6's & 7'S
It all began innocently enough. Dillon and I were in the McDonalds drive-thru and while I waited to be given the wrong order, a fly landed on my windshield.
"Would a night with Jeff Goldblum be worth it if you knew he would turn into The Fly the next day?" I said as I watched the fly, who was watching me.
"The Fly? You'd have to kill him." Dillon is fully aware of my thirty year crush on Jeff Goldblum and it's not like he isn't used to my odd musings.
"Okay, so I load the shotgun. Yeah, I think it would be worth it."
"Fine. What if you got pregnant. Baby flies. Larvae." He said.
"Pregnant? I'm talking about a nice evening, you know, dinner, the ballet."
"Right, mom. Larvae. Think about it."
"Is he going to pay child support? Or fly support? (Har, Har)"
"You're not funny."
"I think I am. A giant larvae? Do I still have the shotgun? Could we launch it like skeet? Might be fun."
"Forget the larvae. What if you were being chased by a T-Rex?"
"Hell yeah! Now that would be a great date!"
"A T-Rex, Mom. Really?"
"I think I could outrun him."
"Obviously, you've never seen yourself run. What if he were an alien?"
"Earth girls are easy, son."
And so it went, and pretty much no scenario that Dillon could come up with would be out of the question for an evening with Jeff Goldblum. I said goodbye to the fly on the windshield and doused him with wiper fluid. I took my first sip of coffee. Not sugar-free. Not vanilla.
"What about Ronald McDonald..." Dillon says.
"Ronald McDonald? No! That's just weird."
Honestly, I don't know where he gets some of his crazy ideas.
When Dillon is not causing trouble with me, he's actually a smarty pants. Check out his website at www.dillonstonetatum.com and don't miss his blog on political musings.
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