I thought Mom managed quite well without Dad, until one evening when she came in from work shouting, “Call the police! Call the POLICE!”
I came out of the kitchen, mouth stuffed with potato chips, wondering what the fuss was.
“Oh my god, someone’s stolen your father’s car,” she wailed. “Call the police!”
I took a big slurp of soda and swallowed hard. “It’s okay, Mom,” I said. “Roger took it.”
About Author Richard P. Nixon
Fled Libya in wake of '67 Six Day War. "Uncle Mo" eventually seized power - two years later on my birthday. Grew up mostly American, with some "old world" quirks. Have been writing since around 1994, but didn't really start writing until 2008. Between 1976 and 1983 spent my time between boarding school (Ireland, Northern Ireland and England) and Alaska (until 1978) and then Saudi Arabia. Came back to the States in '83 and have been in Arizona since '95. Have a nice day. ;)
