The ‘Peep Incident’ that may not have happened
I was having lunch with my sister, Foo Dog, and I had a dilemma — it was Thursday afternoon and I still hadn’t written my column.
Executive Editor Ross had already cruised past my desk and asked if I was writing a column this week. He asks, but it’s part of my absolute minimum duties. You see, he’s not really asking, he’s reminding me I haven’t done it yet without accusing me of slacking off. Also, he never really stops at my desk, he keeps moving. Like a shark. He never stops, just guides past on his way to the newsroom coffee pot.
“Are you writing a column?” He’ll ask, all without looking at me. It’s a touch unnerving and I’m convinced he does it on purpose. He’ll deny it, and I won’t believe him.
Anyway, since my children refused to destroy or dismantle anything this week and the most exciting thing to happen all month was my angry quest to purchase new trash cans, I turned to Foo Dog. Her children are still young. Surely they’ve done something saccarine and/or adorable so I can use their childhood to further my career (such as it is).
“Well,” she said doubtfully, drawing the word out. “Heathenish got into two fist fights this week. Does that count?”
“Well, no,” I said. “Didn’t the Hellion do anything?”
“Not really, no.”
I was momentarily sidetracked by a discussion on who was the favorite child — obviously, it’s Foo, and that was even before I started airing the family’s dirty laundry — but I managed to bring it back around to the most pressing topic — my needs.
“Don’t you have any ideas?” I said.
“What about that time you tried to suffocate me with a Peep?”
She has been trying to sell this one for years. I never tried to suffocate her with a Peep. This is only reinforced by the descrepencies in our stories — I thought the so-called “Peep Incident” happened two years ago, and she thought it was five. Neither one of us can remember what sparked it, what was said or how exactly it went down. All anyone remembers is there was a Peep involved.
And she uses this as evidence that I tried to suffocate her with an fowl marshmallow. How would I have done this?
“You held me down and stuffed it down my throat,” she said.
She is stronger than I am. I couldn’t hold her down if I wanted — further proof that her recollection is flawed, which is putting it generously on my part. Secondly, a Peep is a rather messy and sticky way to suffocate someone. It doesn’t seem as if it would be very effective either. I would guess that it would take more than one Peep — not that I have first-hand knowledge.
Besides, if something happened to her, I would have to raise her children. I almost have mine out of the house and I don’t want to be tasked with raising a second set because of a Peep-related mishap.
Foo — and the Peeps — are safe from me.
(Wallace-Minger, The Weirton Daily Times community editor, is a Weirton resident and can be contacted at firstname.lastname@example.org)