Short Story
The sign on the door read “Mother Goose Marriage Counseling”.
Mother Goose adjusted her spectacles and gazed at the couple in front of her. It had been a long day and she was really looking forward to getting home and putting her feet up by the fire.
“So, let’s just start from the beginning,” she said, “Ms. Dish . . .”
“It all started with the Cow . . .”
“No, you’re getting it wrong again. It was the Cat I tell you, with that crazy instrument of his. If he hadn’t been playing that, the Cow never would have jumped!”
“Well, if the Cow hadn’t jumped, we wouldn’t be in this mess . . .”
“You didn’t complain at the time. You were happy to get away. You said the Little Dog was laughing at you.”
“Oh, Hey Diddle Diddle! Here we go again. Always stirring it up, aren’t you Spoon?
“Now Ms. Dish,” interjected Mother Goose, “there’s no need for that kind of language here! So what happened next, after you two eloped?”
“Eloped, Ha! He promised me a wonderful wedding. Said we would go to Vegas – instead we ended up in the Sprats’ kitchen. Horrible in there it was – all that fat and all that lean. They even licked me clean. Yuck, haven’t they even heard of a dishwasher?”
“At least I put a roof over your head. And how do you repay me? Look at this!” The Spoon held out a snapshot to Mother Goose.
“Oh, she’s adorable Mr. Spoon, is she yours?”
“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?”
“I swear dear, she has to be yours, I’d never . . .”
“But she’s a CUP!” shouted Spoon.
“It could be a recessive gene or something . . .”
“Or it could be that you’ve playing around with that Teapot!”
“No, I would never . . .”
“But, I saw you! Getting all steamed up. Thought that just because he was short and stout I wouldn’t be suspicious. But then it was too much for you. You just had to tip him over and pour him out, didn’t you?”
Dish gazed down at the floor tiles. “Ms. Dish?” prompted Mother Goose, “Ms. Dish, do you have anything to say?”
“OK, I admit it!” Dish finally replied, “But he bamboozled me, he did, that sweet talking Teapot. He said we could live in a China Cabinet, that I’d be part of a willow pattern tea set, and I believed him, Spoon. But I was wrong, he had no intention of leaving Milk Jug. Will you forgive me Spoon?”
“I’ll have to think about it . . .”
“Maybe we could renew our vows? Mother Goose, do you think that would be a good idea? We could have a big party, invite the old gang. You could come too if you’d like. We’d invite the Cat with his fiddle, and the Cow, but not that mean Little Dog. He’d only laugh.”
“Oh I suppose it might work,” replied the Spoon, “and when we’re all done maybe the Cow could jump over the Moon again.”
