Black Bear Diner, anyone? (Daily Prompt)


“Daddy…where do snails go?”

“Well, it’s early so they are probably going to school just like you Bug.”

“Really? What do they learn…at snail school?”

“Lots of stuff…snail stuff. The history of snails, how to spell S-N-A-I-L, words that rhyme with snail, how to go as slow as possible…you know snail stuff.”

“Wow, I see a big snail…the biggest snail of them all. That’s probably the teacher right?”

I live for these conversations. Nothing is more precious than a child’s imagination. Everything is interesting and sparks a curious conversation. I know these days are limited because one day my kid will not talk about things like this. Her conversations will be about boys and how school is boring. And probably, these conversations will not be with me…but with friends through her cell phone. It depresses me just thinking about it. So today’s daily prompt asks us what piece of advice would we give to someone in the past or future…well the advice will go to me. I can imagine it now, I would be sitting at my home office writing my 4th novel…another New York Times Best Seller about snails and Snail schools.

The man toiled over his writing. He stopped to ponder the next twist in his snail school murder mystery. He looked out the window and saw a ghostly figure walking up his driveway. The man was alarmed. He rubbed his eyes and looked at the clock…3:47. He thought to himself, “I’m sleepy, that’s it. I’m seeing things.” He consciously made an effort to avoid looking outside his window.

A few minutes passed and he heard rapping against his window. He looked up and saw the ghostly figure at his window sill. He almost jumped out of his SpongeBob Squarepants pajamas(They were a gift, I swear. Besides, these were his writing pants.)

“Excuse me, may I help you?” The man said with a british accent. He did not know why he used an accent, he was a Filipino- American. He thought it sounded elegant in his head. The ghostly image spoke..

“Dude what? That’s the worst impression of a british accent I ever heard. It’s me….I mean, I’m you…but a ghostly version of you. Let me in, it’s raining and it affects my ghostly aura. I got something to tell you.”

The man opened the door but was confused.

Wait, if you are a ghost, why can’t you just float through my walls or something? Why do I need to let you in the door?”

“Some ghosts can’t do that, that’s a ghost stereotype and besides I’m pretty polite for a ghost. I open doors for other ghosts, assist other elderly ghosts when they cross the street, hold elevator doors open for other ghosts…you know polite stuff. But, look, I am here to give you important advice to help you out.”

“Ok..” The man was hanging on the ghost’s every word.

One…stop eating Twinkies. Two…stop biting your nails. And finally, have another kid. Ok, I gotta go.”

The man was intrigued.

“Wait wait. What do you mean?”

Seriously? Twinkies are fattening man. And biting your nails is a really gross habit, you know where your hands have been. And nothing is more rewarding than raising a child.”

My wife and I hang out a lot with a set of married couples. And there is an inside joke within our group, when someone is pregnant, they invite everyone to dinner at Black Bear diner. We didn’t intentionally plan that as our “pregnancy announcement” place, but it has happened twice already.

That would be my piece of advice.


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