Free Miss Taken by Sue Seabury Page A

I had to
race through it in order to have time to watch my favorite lineup
of shows. My illegible scrawl will have to do because Sunday night
is some prime TV.
     
    Strange but true scientific fact: A male
frigatebird inflates a flap of red skin into a giant balloon to
attract females. He will also cover the female’s eyes with his
wings so she doesn’t get a chance to change her mind by spotting
another bird with a bigger balloon.
     
     
     
    In my case, the part that is inflating is my
waist and the red thing is pimples. Somehow I don’t think this
increases my level of attraction.
    Valentine’s Day is fast approaching and I
can’t help but wonder what Ned might be dreaming up. A teensy
thought about receiving bouquets of flowers from secret admirers
who shall remain nameless appeared in my mind unbidden. I told it
to leave immediately. It went for the most part, although
occasionally its freckles pop back into view.
    I am secretly hoping to go out on a real
date, like to a restaurant, but I don’t dare say it out loud
because then it definitely won’t happen. Although it’s totally
irrational, I can be superstitious at times. Plus I have no way to
pay for such a grand plan so the suggestion will have to come from
Ned.
    I am cautiously hopeful that we will be able
to do something even if it’s not a restaurant date because, after
our mid-year report cards, I am pleased to announce that Ned is a
solid C- student.
    Well, I am not ecstatically happy about that,
but it was much better than he had done in the first quarter of the
year.
    As Robin Jane and also his girlfriend, I am
self-effacing enough to not even mention my role in getting his
grades up to almost passing or that I have been helping him with
his English homework sometimes in addition to math. I will
magnanimously allow Ned to take all the credit, especially since he
is not officially passing yet.
    He did get a C+ on his last math quiz, so I
have high hopes for the whole second half of the year and not just
Valentine’s Day.
    While plenty of circumstances are beyond my
control, there are still some that do fall into my domain, i.e., my
gift for Ned. I really need to do a good job with this holiday
since I made such a mess with Christmas, to not even mention more
damage repair related to the most recent hand-holding incident
(HHI) involving Kyle.
    Ned likes to eat so I thought about gourmet
chocolates, until I saw the price of them. But the boy really
enjoys his food so I figured I could make him some.
    It did occur to me that I should buy some
fancier chocolate than Gershey’s as the basis for gourmet truffles,
but I don’t know where to get it except at the gourmet shop where
it is already molded into expensive shapes. I’ll just have to dress
it up with other fancy ingredients like alcohol, although how I was
going to sneak that out of the liquor cabinet remained to be
seen.
    Hmmm. Not ratting out M. Waddell and his
cleaning fluid may come in handy after all.
    I was so slick. The next day at the end of
French class, I came up with an excuse to go to the supply closet,
spice jar at the ready.
    Okay, maybe not so slick. It leaked in my
pocket and now I reek of cheap whiskey.
    I think M. Waddell smelled it too. I heard
him sniff as I walked by him.
     
    Strange but true scientific fact: The
blue-footed booby engages in an elaborate display to snare a mate,
whistling, pointing and striding about, proudly displaying his big
blue feet. This ritual can go on for hours.
     
     
     
    Valentine’s Day falls on a Friday this year,
and it also happens to be a ‘C’ day, so it seems to me that the
gods of love are in my quadrant despite the very good chance that
my monthly “little friend” is scheduled to show up around that
time.
    It was a good thing I started working early
in the week on Ned’s gift because my first attempt was a total
disaster. I learned you have to use the alcohol sparingly or else
the truffles turn into what amounts to nice-tasting