Brought to You by Mike and Ike
I had come down to the kitchen to broil some turkey burgers for dinner. Instead, I found myself subjected to a pitch meeting. Daniel was running around the kitchen, acting out all the parts of a television show he had thought of.
“I call it the Note to Self show,” he said. He pantomimed a scene where he was sucked down into an escalator and dragged back to the top. He stood up and acted like he was dusting himself off. “Note to self: don’t do that!” Daniel laughed loudly and I quietly drew the drapes across our sliding glass door so the neighbors couldn’t see any more. As he started his next act, I found a yellow card on the kitchen table and began writing on the back. Daniel stopped in mid-discombobulation to see what I was doing.
“You’re going to need a business card if you’re going to be in television,” I said, handing him my idea for his title in the credits:
PROFESSIONAL SILLY KIDDO
Daniel squinted at me; switching his eye lasers to excoriate. He asked me for my pencil and rummaged through the junk drawer, looking for something to write on. He found a notepad courtesy of LaQuinta and sat down across from me. He wouldn’t tell me what he was writing, of course; his printing was blocked by a wall of fingers. Every so often, he would look up to glare at me and giggle to himself. I cleared my throat.
“Of course,” I continued, “I wouldn’t be giving it to just anyone.”
“What do you mean by that?” he asked.
“Well, Mike and Ike are pretty delicious,” I explained. Daniel nodded. I could see in his eyes he was thinking of assorted fruity flavors in convenient capsule form. “I was planning to give it to someone who was deserving of it, someone who was nice to me.” Daniel looked around the room.
“Of course, if someone is mean to me – you know – writes nasty things about me…” I paused for dramatic effect. “Well, then, I would probably just have to eat all the Mike and Ike myself.” Daniel’s writing hand paused behind his hiding hand.
I placed a light green bag of Mike and Ike on the kitchen table between us.
“I don’t want to affect what you’re writing; freedom of speech is very dear to me,” I explained. “I just thought I’d state the facts and let you draw whatever conclusions you think are appropriate.” I gave Daniel a smile and watched as he looked at the bag of candy on the table then down at his writing.
And so that’s how I ended up with my new position as head of Wonderful Dad Company, motto: I HEART My Nice Dad.