…or On the Eighth Day of Christmas, My True Love Gave to Me: a hangover.
Down at Seaside Villa
Joodles: You’d better get up, dear.
Lancelot: No, you get up.
Joodles: No, you get up. There’s a ton to do and you promised to take the grandchildren tomorrow.
Lancelot: No, that’s next week. Ooooh my head.
Joodles: No, that’s tomorrow.
Lancelot: Where can I find Babysitter Brenda’s phone number?
Joodles: I don’t know dear, why don’t you get up and look.
Lancelot: No, you get up.
Meanwhile over at the Trailer Park:
Joodles: Lannie wake up, it’s almost four o’clock.
Lannie: Wah? Whoa, where am I?
Joodles: You’d better get crackin’. You got the Grandkids comin’ to hang out tomorrow.
Lannie: Whaaa – naw, can’t be. I got the guys comin’ over to practice. Y’all sure about that?
Joodles: Sure as eggs is eggs. Now excuse me, I gotta yodel some groceries here.
Lannie: Just ten more minutes.
© Judy Parsons 2019
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