Mama-Come-Lately

Minnie was the kind of person who liked to yell at the TV when she watched costume dramas.

Vinnie considered it a sort of manly honor to rake the leaves, but he drew the line at picking up the 12 million gumballs that goddamn tree dropped every year.

Timmy wondered when he’d ever be able to reach the light switch.

Fluffy pushed herself up from her fleece-lined perch, stretched, yawned, and lay back down again.

Buffy looked around the room, scanning the mostly unfriendly faces, and then the question entered her mind, unbidden: “What would Don Draper do?”

The mice considered their options carefully, knowing their next move could cost them everything.

The table felt neglected.

Out in the shed, the empty flowerpots were stacked neatly, waiting for spring.

Every so often, the thought entered her mind, but she usually shoved it away and went back to whichever of the thousand daily tasks she was in the middle of.

“Can I ask you something, Ron?” Hermione called from the kitchen. “It’ll only take a minute.”