October 17, 2006

A Play A Day #187

Time Slip


Setting: Dining room table

(enter Mom)

Mom: Well, your father should be home any moment, but let's eat, huh? I'm so hungry.

Peter: Sure. What's for supper?

M: Ohhh... Pork roast, sweet potatoes, asparagus and whole wheat buns.

P: Wow! Is that all in the kitchen... kinda serve yourself?

M: Whoops! Hey! Sorry, dear, forgot to make it! I'll get going on it right now. (exits)

P: (talking after her) I'm gonna go to Brad's place while you're doing that, okay? (pause, he shrugs his shoulders, start to leave)

M: (re-entering) Peter. Time to eat.

P: (turning around at exit) No, Mom. You haven't made supper yet...

M: Yep, all done.

P: What do you mean, you just left...

M: All done; sit down and eat, dear.

P: No... ummm... but I was going to go to Brad's and...

M: Supper's ready, Peter. Sit down.

P: Mom, it can't be ready... I don't even smell anything...

M: (holding out her hand) It's right here.

P: (moving close, picking a small pill from her hand, holding it up) Very funny, Mom... this is a Tic-Tac.

M: No, that's supper...

P: Pot roast, sweet potatoes, buns?

M: And asparagus, and you had better eat at least some of your asparagus, young man, or no dessert for you!

P: What? This is a ...

M: Strawberry-rhubarb pie and ice cream. (she holds up another pill in her other hand)

P: Mom... uhhh...

M: Sit. Eat, Peter.

P: (doing so, he examines the pill, and finally tosses it into his mouth, a few beats, then) Holy crap, Mom! This tastes like pot roast.... and sweet potatoes... and buns... and (a little shiver) asparagus!

M: Well, duuhh, sweetheart! That's what it is! I told you that already. Did you want something to drink?

P: Uhhh... yeah... some milk'd be good.

M: (puts pill in a glass) Here ya go, honey.

P: ("drinks" the pill) Wow... this is... amazing, Mom! Where did you get this stuff?

M: What? It's what I always make... sorry for the repetition...

P: No it isn't, Mom... we always eat nomal food... not pills that taste like food.

M: Yes, I just printed the food off this morning when I did the online shopping.

P: Printed?

M: Yes... like always, Peter.... what's wrong, honey, are you not feeling well?

P: Like the food came with the printer?

M: No.... I bought it and printed it out; it doesn't just automatically come with the printer. You have to work for the groceries... the EssenceNet was kind of slow this morning, took about five seconds to get the whole meal... I'll have to cellpath the Telesense Company later... I can't belive they advertise such fast connection speeds and then fail to deliver...

P: Mom?

M: Like I said, your father should be home any moment. I'm sure he'd love to eat his meal with you. He's been so busy with his new job these last few days.

P: Dad has a new job!?

M: Oh yes! He's been talking about it all the time? Don't you even listen to your father?

P: He's not a theoretical physicist any more?

M: No, he told me that it just wasn't practical enough; that he wanted a job he could apply himself to more physically.

P: But he loves... loved... physics.

M: I don't know, Peter. I'm sure he had very good reasons for doing it, and he's certainly seemed happier this week.

(Door opening and closing offstage)

M: (calling out) Honey, is that you?

Dad: (stomping onto the stage, he is dressed in old farmer clothing, as in 1840s gear) Darnedit, Ma! Have ya seen the big scythe? I got two acres o' grain left, and it looks like it might hail!

P: Dad?!

M: It's under the old hover shed, dear.

D: Thank ye kindly, Ma! Peter, best get your work breeches on meet me outside when you finish up here.

(Dad exits)

M: You heard your father, Peter. Why don't you get outside right now... (she picks up his cup) ...you can help me with the dish when you're done with the reaping.

(Mom exits, lights start fading, Peter shakes his head hard, rubs his eyes, can't figure out what's going on)

P: Breeches?

(lights out)


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