USA
Chapter 32

Copyright© 2016 by Old Man with a Pen

Yes ... played ... I say! Played! Played by an 18 month old girl child ... a product of my loins.

When I went back to the salon, the other two 18 month old girl children were nowhere in sight. The toys were in their box ... and, again ... I didn't get to see who put them away!

Something is going on I know nothing about.

An 18 month old girl has spoken to me using complete sentences. She has queried me, obtained an answer that satisfied her curiosity ... and communicated said answer to her siblings.

(Pause)

(much ruminating)

(Pause)

(considering my possible lack of sanity)

(Pause)

(indignation!)

AIN'T HAPPENING!

IMPOSSIBLE!

No eighteen month old child has the capacity.

The actions of the triplets served a secondary (primary?) purpose ... I forgot all about Keri's exhibitionism. If I had truly been played?

My real mother ... the other world mother ... used to chide her husband for allowing my sister to wrap him around her little finger ... are the trips doing that to me?

YES!

Well, shit!

I object!

The solution is to let Keri have her way ... her mother is actively promoting her behavior ... Keri is going to practice her girlhood.

I guess the trips are getting my attention.

The battleship? steamed on without us. I knew she would bunker at the Galapagos. The island group was a bunkering station for British whalers and their Navy ... even though the Galapagos were claimed by Ecuador. One thing for sure ... nobody fucks with the British Royal Navy ... if the ship was British.

We went from two almost teenagers to a family with five children. (This is an aside. I know some won't like it ... tough.) Now that I'm a dad ... oh my god! ... I am ... I am a dad ... and I'm getting responsible. I swore I'd never ... but ... here I am. In the shit!

If she wasn't just like her mother, I wouldn't... yes I would! Wouldn't! I went with some real barkers. Yes ... you did. They were the girls who put out. So don't say nasty things about Inkeri ... guys are going to WANT her. They are going to want her stark naked ... spread out and moaning for it. Remember what I said? "With girls you worry about every dick." Lordy ... I want to go home.

No you don't. It's Finland. Land of loose morals ... and Inkeri is exactly...

SHUT UP! Shut up! Shut up!

She is, isn't she.

Well ... at sea all I have to worry about is Artturi ... They wouldn't ... would they?


"Wendy?"

The response came from below, "David?"

"Did you put away the triplets toys?" I asked.

"No. Didn't you?" she said.

"No," I said. "Have you been putting them away?"

"No," Wendy said. "Inkeri?"

"No, mom," Keri said. "I thought you did it."

"Artturi?" I called.

"Daddy?"

"Have you been cleaning up the trio's corner?"

"No," Art said. "I thought ... no ... not me."

"Sarah?" Wendy called.

"I'm busy," she called back.

Sarah was the 'Temp' we had hired in Sand Hill, British Honduras. At the present moment she was tits deep in feeding, changing and rattling off in her native language ... Upper middle class British. She stayed with us when April, our Corpus Cristi nurse, married a ship's captain.

"Have you?" Wendy asked.

"No, Wendy," Sarah said, "The toys are always in their box when it's time to feed or lay them down for their nap."

"Sarah?"

"Ma'am?"

"Bring the girls to the salon, please.

"Keri? Art?"

"Mom?"

"Come to the salon. please."

Soon enough, we were ALL in the salon.

Everybody looked at the trips.

"MaMa"

"Dada"

"Potty"

And, naturally... "Mine."

"SEVEN!"

"Damn, caught."

 
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