The gnus at ten

“Get up.”

“Can’t be bothered.”

“You do as you’re told, Gerald. Get up or there’ll be no food for you this day.”

“Don’t care.”

“Don’t care was made to care. Now GET UP.”

“What’s the point?”

“What’s the matter with you today, Gerald? You aren’t usually like this.”

“I dunno. I’m just… bleugh!”

“What’s that supposed to mean? Come on, pull yourself together. You can’t lay there all day.”

“Why not?”

“Gerald. I’m starting to worry about you. Tell me what’s wrong. I promise I’ll just listen. You can be straight with me – I won’t judge you, whatever you say.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. You know what our lifespan is, don’t you?”

“Yeah – twenty years.”

“And you are aware of how old I am?”

“Of course – it’s your tenth birthday today. Why?”

“Because, Mother dear—”

“We aren’t deers. Technically, we’re antelopes, though you’d never know it to look at us.”

“Dear, not deer. Can’t you even spell? Anyway, to answer your question—”

“Which one?”

“The one you just asked me.”

“What was that?”

“Why it matters that I’m ten, for pity’s sake. Can’t you remember anything?”

“You wait till you start going through the change. You’ll soon find out what it’s like.”

“I don’t think so, Mother.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m a male. We don’t go through the change.”

“What do you do instead then?”

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. We live for twenty years, yeah?”

“We do.”

“And I’m ten, right?”

“I still don’t get what you’re saying.”

“I’M HAVING A MID-LIFE CRISIS!”

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This was written in response to Kreative Kue 249 published on this site.