Search for the Green Mewtwo

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  “Honey,” I call excitedly, “Honey I got it!”
  “Got what, babe?” Maria calls from the kitchen. I walk in wearing my sweatpants and baggy-lazyday-top, looking down in disbelief at the Nintendo DS in my hands. “My shiny mewtwo! It’s green. And shiny. And beautiful.”
  “That’s uhm… great,” she says. I glance up to query her lack of enthusiasm – whilst not necessarily supporting my quest battling one in eight-thousand odds she’s at least been there through it all, there’s no way she wouldn’t at least be relieved it’s over – and notice her friend Anne sitting opposite her at the kitchen table, a mug in her hands, a bemused expression on her face.
  “Oh uh, hi Anne,” I say, waving inanely. I’m suddenly very embarrassed.
  “Hey,” she says, grinning. Anne sired one of Baxter’s buddies, and I quickly put the clues together to deduce Oscar must be somewhere in the house too.
  “Go get dressed,” Maria says, playfully irritated – if such a state exists – and as I shuffle away to do just that I can hear her explaining my month long grind for the aforementioned rarity I now hold in my hands. Humiliation aside, nothing can take away from this moment.
  When I come back downstairs – dressed like a gentleman, this time – I find Oscar sitting on the couch, one hand over his eyes, the other foraging in his ear like some desperate magician looking for a coin that isn’t there.
  “Hey Oscar,” I say, sitting down beside him. He removes neither hand but gives me a “Yo.”
  “I caught a rare Pokémon,” I say proudly. If anyone’s going to give me the respect I deserve it’s a six year old, right?”
  “Pokémon is for babies.” He replies simply.
  “It is?”
  “Yeah, Ben 10 is cool now.”
  “It is?” I ask, surprised. I’d never seen the show but it looked dumb.
  “Oh yeah. It’s wicked awesome.”
  “Right.” long pause “So what you up to buddy?”
  “Sitting.”
  “I can see that. What are the hands for?”
  “Covering my eyes.”
  Are my questions really this dead-ended? I guess with these new-fangled boys you have to be a little more intrusive.
  “What for?”
  “So Bax can hide.”
  “Ah,” I say, suddenly illuminated. “What about the other one?”
  “Trying to get the water out of my ear.”
  “You guys go swimming today?”
  “Sure did. Ready or not, here I come!” He shouts the last bit so loud and unexpected that I jump violently from the sofa. He races off in search of my son.
  “Good talk,” I say quietly to myself.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:
I wish this was true. I wish I’d caught it. But I have not. I can dream.

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~ by Joseph Blame on April 6, 2011.

2 Responses to “Search for the Green Mewtwo”

  1. […] even linked me a story he wrote in 2011, where he pretended he finally found his white whale, along with status updates that expressed his […]

  2. […] was so obsessed with his task that he even wrote a fictional story about what would happen if he finally found the green […]

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