17 Drawings

Some seventeen thousand words on the subject of how I passed my Saturday.

The sun woke me up by poking me in the eye. It was the last time I would see the sun all day. The sun is a sneaky bugger. I was all alone in bed, because Littlestar had let me sleep in because I had been up late the previous night queuing up rendering jobs. I listened to her put our favourite toddler down for her morning nap while I scratched and stretched and yawned and smacked. Lullabies tinnily jingled and Littlestar retreated. I rolled on my back and watched the shadows from branches swaying in the breeze play across the ceiling. I sneezed. Then I swung my hobbit feet out of bed and trudged blearily downstairs. [ Figure 1 ]

I came into the great room, where Littlestar was sitting on the couch with her laptop on her lap. She was on HuSi, tittering at things trolls had typed. I pointed to my unruly head of hippie brambles, and asked Littlestar if she wouldn't mind shearing me down to something respectable. [ Figure 2 ]

Littlestar cut my hair while I closed my eyes and thought about robots. [ Figure 3 ]

We took a rinse in the shower to divest of us little bits of itchy hair. Then I cooked up some breakfast while Littlestar committed mysterious womanly things in the washroom. Breakfast was yummy, despite the scrambled eggs being a mite overcooked due to some toast-related complications. [ Figure 4 ]

With our plates in our laps we sat in the great room and watched cartoons while we ate. [ Figure 5 ]

Popsicle woke up from her nap. I went up to the tiny loft to fetch her, and she told me about her dreams. She collected her best friend, a teddybear named Bo, and together we hopped down the stairs and giggled. [ Figure 6 ]

Littlestar got dressed while I changed Popsicle's diaper. When Littlestar returned I remarked at how her tank top hugged her bosom in a way that pleased me. She smiled and blushed. I followed this up with a lascivious suggestion concerning our mutually complementary anatomic features, but she declined and said that it was time to go shopping, instead. [ Figure 7 ]

So we packed up the toddler and drove to Barrie. [ Figure 8 ]

I was chagrined to learn that the print shop was not open on Saturdays. I could not ask them to make me a new series of business cards. I was further chagrined to run the gauntlet of a seasonal sale at a big box store. However our moods improved after we had some lunch. Everyone had tacos. Even Bo. [ Figure 9 ]

On the way home Littlestar drove the car. We listened to John Lennon songs, and Popsicle tried to sing along. I looked out the window and watched our neighbourhood streak by, everything dead or dying from autumn cold. [ Figure 10 ]

It wasn't long after we got home that Popsicle decided that she wanted to go down for her afternoon nap. "Ba-ba and Bo, pease," she commanded. (Popsicle has recently declared war on the letters L and R; exhausted from the effort of endless mispronunciation, she has opted to simply purge the hated sounds from her speech altogether.) We obliged her with hot milk and kisses, and then a ride aboard the Papa-train to her crib. [ Figure 11 ]

I took the opportunity of Popsicle's absence to ravish Littlestar. She said I should close the blinds in the laboratorium so the people in the village couldn't watch us, so I did. [ Figure 12 ]

When Popsicle woke up she told me she had a dream about the fact that our new gas fireplace is hot. "Fie-pace sis hot, Papa," she warned me solemnly. "Sis hot." [ Figure 13 ]

Some time was devoted to playing around upside-down. There was also assorted chasing and wrestling. Popsicle thought having her toes tickled by the great room's low-hanging plants was the height of hilarity. The audience was appreciative. [ Figure 14 ]

For dinner we had chicken pot pie. [ Figure 15 ]

After Popsicle went to bed Littlestar and I took Persephone for a walk around the village. It was very foggy. We put a glowing red signal on Persephone's collar so we could keep track of her. It glowed the same colour as a tree of early Christmas lights, illuminating a thick bank of fog from within. [ Figure 16 ]

Later on we went up to the bedroom and had fun. Afterward, we warmed our toes by the fire. Littlestar fell asleep and I watched her dream while I thought up how I would draw our day in a series of pictures. The embers burned low and my eyes grew heavy. I was swallowed by sleep. [ Figure 17 ]


The End