Richie was out with his Mom. The chick that gave me the chick. Now I was alone with the little blue light special.
Home by myself, the dog asleep and the radio off, I turned to the corner of the kitchen for solace.
“Alexa, tell me a story.”
She did. She told me a short, sweet story.
It made me smile.
I tried for another.
The theme was cute but the ending predictable.
I was continuing to be a critic of hers but enjoyed being read to on a rainy day.
I’ve since learned the stories of: “Measure twice”, “The Hunt” and “Camp Blues”.
When Richie came home I told him about “The old man in the cottage” and “Making a snowball”.
Now Alexa had me narrating the accounts to Richie. He had left us alone together but we actually got along for once. Later tonight, I can even tell Richie “How to play pickle ball” – although I think I’ll edit it to my liking.
Everyone has a story. Alexa has a bookshelf. I gave her a hard wrap when we first met but maybe she, and Richie and I, are the fairytale.