The Magic 8 Ball

It was a nice Christmas. No major dramatics (miraculous for a family consisting of 12 females and 2 sperm donors), just the heartfelt observation that we could use some men in the family. Jethro cannot carry the load by himself. Every time we leave my family's estrogen plantation, I see just a few more gray hairs on his head. It's already driven my stepfather to insanity.

I am still not feeling well. I was doing better yesterday, but seem to have had a relapse. I have the energy for one funny story, but then I'm spent.

Gwennie and Emma had themselves a great Christmas and got a pretty nice haul. One of Gwennie's presents was a Magic 8 ball. It was a last minute present because Emma was getting a high school musical poster, and Gwennie's Pokemon poster hadn't come in yet. They have to have an even number of presents. Be quiet, they just do.

Anyway, Gwennie had left her Battleship game all over the floor and I asked her to pick it up. The third time I asked, I didn't ask nicely. She snatched up her game in a manic huff and nearly threw it at me.

"What is your problem?" I asked, nonplussed.

Tears formed in her eyes. Real, legitimate tears.

"My family doesn't love me," she said simply.

"What on earth would give you that impression?"

"I asked my Magic 8 ball if I like pie and it said "yes." Then I asked it if my family really loved me and it said, "no." Her voice broke.

"Oh my god. I'm going to smash that thing into pieces. Gwennie. Look at me. You can't ask a piece of plastic important questions like that. It's just a game. You're only supposed to ask it questions like, 'Should I wear my red shirt today?' You know, things that don't really matter. You know I love you. I love you and Emma more than anything in the world. The day I had you was the happiest day of my life."

She brightened considerably.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, Gwennie?" I asked seriously.

"Yes. I feel much better now that I know it's just a game."

A mischievous look came into her eyes. She shook up her Magic 8 Ball and asked, "Am I going to get presents next year?"

She turned it over and read: "Outlook not good."

She frowned a little and said, "I'll ask it again."

She turned over the 8 ball and read: "All signs point to no."

She sighed. "I'll ask it one more time."

Once more she asked the question and shook up her 8 ball: "My reply is no."

She looked at it for a second, then said cheerfully: "Well, that's it for today."