a conversation with Brody

It went like this: 

Mama was in bed, reading her Kindle, and I came in to say hello, and naturally, Brody was layin in there with her. Brody jumped in on the conversation. As I began this post, I thought, 'How can I put Brody's voice into words?' ... Well, friends, here's the best I can do ... imagine a black lab, wearing a robe and slippers, smoking a cigar in his study. That's how Brody's voice sounded. 

Anyhoo ...

We started talking about our pasts, apparently, because Brody casually disclosed that he had nine kids.

Mama and I look at each other, like, "I know damn well he doesn't. After all, Brody's manhood was taken at a pretty young age." 

So, we decide to question him further. "What are their names?" Mama pried. He rolled off some names, but the only one I recall is 'Tennessee'. {??!?!}

I further investigated, "Were they all from the same litter or more than one?" 

"They were from two litters - and I had more on the way in a third litter, when I got the call." 

"The call?" I asked.

"Yes. They called to tell me that I could no longer have children," he said solemnly. (I guess maybe he slept through the surgery, and when he woke up, didn't realize what had transpired, so the phone call was a shock?)

WEIRD dream, y'all. And I didn't even eat dairy before bed.

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