sometimes

the little dachshund sat patiently in his mother’s lap, basking in the afternoon sun. sometimes, all u have to do is nothing, and something interesting still happens, the little dachshund thought to himself while he waited. 

the little dachshund turned his head to and fro, watching birds and cars go by. 

maybe, today’s interesting thing will be someone bringing me a package. that would be nice because i could bark bark bark and bark some more. and, of course, there would be a package. for me. to open. and eat. the little dachshund hoped, but no packages came.

maybe, a zeppelin would float by, and the captain, looking through his binoculars, would  spy my ferociousness, and throw down a ladder for me to climb to go for a ridey. that would be nice, so long as i was back in time for dinner. because wolves need dinner to stay ferocious, the little dachshund thought to himself. but no zeppelins floated by. 

maybe, gummy worms will rain down from the sky. that would be nice, for obvious reasons. but the sky remained clear and a lovely shade of blue. 

hee hee, or maybe, a strange and noxious odor might emanate from your hiney and fill the room with -  

the little dachshund, having eaten copious amounts of monkey chow the night before with his best toyfriend duk duk, did not have to imagine anymore. 

the little dachshund was rushed to the back door, his mother trying her best to wake up her sleepy legs while she grabbed his leash so he could do the rest of his business outside. 

filled with nevers and where did u even get more monkey chow, the little dachshund only heard bits and pieces of what his mother was telling him.  sometimes, the little dachshund thought to himself,  the nothing that you do today while waiting for the something interesting to happen is built on the nothing u say you did the day before.