So here is a story I'm working on for my character Mr. G. For now, it's just a simple story, but maybe sometime later I'll turn it into a book. But anyway, enjoy, and stay tuned for more if you like it so far.
Mr. G in: Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner
“My parents are coming to dinner tonight, dear” Mrs. G said. She looked a bit reluctant, as though she had something else she wanted to say about it.
“I see.” Mr. G was busy concentrating on his seventh ship in a bottle. The mast was almost up, and the sails ready to bloom.
Mrs. G stood in the doorway, wringing her hands. She suddenly broke the long, awkward silence.
“I have some news,” she continued. Mr. G barely heard what she said. “A bit of a snag, but not terrible.”
“Snag?” as he peered his eye through the magnifying glass mounted on his head, with his back still turned to her. “Nope, it’s not snagged, I think I got it.”
“No–” Mrs. G walked into the room and stood beside him. “Not the boat, love. I’m talking about my parents coming.” She turned his chin to face up at her. His giant eye blinked at her through the magnifying glass.
“Yes, my parents are coming to dinner.”
“Tonight,” she spoke slow and clear to make sure he heard her.
“Really,” Mr. G said in surprise. “Well, alright. That’s great, dear!” smiling, and turning his head back to his project. Mrs. G stopped his head with her hand and redirected it back her way.
“Yes, it’s great. But there’s that snag I was telling you about.” Mr. G took the magnifying glass off his head and set the apparatus on the desk.
“Ok, and what is this snag?”
“Well, my mother’s recently gone vegan after my parent’s last trip to India, and my father has gotten onboard with it.”
Mr. G peered at her for a moment. “So, your parents are vegans, is that what the ‘snag’ was?”
Mrs. G nodded.
“Well, dear, that’s not so bad,” as he rubbed her shoulder. “You can whip something up for dinner that’s vegan. Remember that vegan number you tried last month from the newsletter we got in the mail? That was delicious!”
“Yes, making vegan food is the easy part, love. But my concern is that nothing in this house is vegan!” She started to pace around the room.
“So, we’ll get some vegan items. Not a problem!” Mr. G knew Mrs. G was getting into one of her worrying bouts.
“My mother is going to analyze everything she lays her eyes on in the house. That means no milk in the fridge, we need new clothes, your snacks in the cupboard have to go–”
Mr. G stood up sharply. “My snacks?” The ship mast in the bottle fell into the model, collapsing the whole thing as Mr. G’s hip knocked his desk when he stood up. “Why do my snacks have to go?”
“Because you know my mother is going to want to help in the kitchen, and she’s going to see your pork-rind stash!”
Mr. G fell back in his chair with a deflated and audible sigh. “Well, one night without my snacks isn’t that bad, I suppose.” Mrs. G winced a bit.
“That’s the other part of the snag–” as she turned toward Mr. G. He looked up at her from his chair. “They’re going to be here for two weeks.”
Mr. G’s eyebrows raised and eyes widened. He said nothing, staring at Mrs. G. His bottom lip began to pout and tremble.
“Are you okay, dear?” Mrs. G approached him worried that he might be in shock. “Honey, breathe!”
“I’m alright. I just need a second.”
“Okay, well while you’re recovering, I need you to go to the store and pick up a few things.” She handed him a multipage list of food items.
Mr. G examined the list, looking at his wife, and looking back at the list.
“I think I’m going to need a little help with a few of the things on here, love.”
“Yes, I’m sure. That’s what the trip to the bookstore is for,” she said, smiling.
To be continued...