Erica Lucke Dean

"Making the world a better place, one book at a time."

who the hell invited the wombat?

There is a cricket in my living room.  I can’t see him, but I know he’s here.  I’m listening to him chirp every few seconds…taunting me from his crickety hiding place in the wall. 

What does this mean?  Could it be some prophesy of doom?  No, he’s just the cherry on top of my fruit salad of a day.  Just a distraction, as if I needed another distraction, right?  I already fell asleep before dinner and woke up in the dark wondering if it was still today. 

It’s supposed to be wacky Wednesday, where I blog a topic chosen by my readers.  I can’t blame anyone. This is my own fault.  I set myself up for this one.  But I don’t want to blog about close encounters of the weird kind.  I don’t want to blog about zombie invasions or women with tattoos who ride motorcycles. And although Dan DeWitt would love for me to write an entire blog devoted to his favorite subject…Dan DeWitt…I think I’ll have to go with the other topic that came up. 

Wombats.                                            

Because sure, who doesn’t love wombats?  Admittedly, I was envisioning a prehistoric, winged creature with scary teeth and sharpened claws.  Or worse…a half woman and half bat creature from an accidental transformation from vampire to bat form.  I wasn’t expecting a cute little teddy bear.  What does that say about me that I couldn’t identify a wombat just by its name?  I’m supposed to be smarter than that.  I’m supposed to know everything…I mean, I’ve been known to say I do.  But don’t listen to me.  I didn’t even know what a wombat looked like.  According to Dan DeWitt, my complete lack of wombat identification skills could have allowed a dangerous criminal to go free.  

I’m seriously worried that I never did wake up and I’m dreaming even now. 

But now that I know how cute wombats are (and as long as I’m still dreaming) I may as well adopt one.  Because I need another mouth to feed, right? 

Do wombats even use a litter box? 

Not that it matters, because apparently it is illegal to import them as pets anyway.  Besides, when I wake up I’ll probably have a completely different perspective on the whole thing. 

And since I’m only dreaming, I may as well invite Johnny Depp…and the guy who played Henry VIII on the Tudors.  And we may as well hang out someplace way cooler than my living room with that chirping cricket, and the snoring dog.  I’ve always wanted to go to Australia…hey they have wombats there!

Ok, who slipped me the Nyquil?

Until the next time…I’ll be getting some much needed sleep!

Copyright © 2000-2016, Erica Lucke Dean. All rights reserved. Any retranscription or reproduction is prohibited and illegal.