The Secret Diary of Adrian Godot, Aged 13 3/4

Posted on April 13, 2014

5



December 30, 1948

Yesterday I was supposed to go to Mrs. O’Reilly’s house to pick up a pie plate for my mother. Before I could leave, however, my father left the back door open and the dog got out. My father then got into a panic and went running out after him. We kept expecting he’d be back any time, but two hours later he still hadn’t returned, with or without the dog. Frankly, I couldn’t care less since I spend most nights trying to block out his howling.

Sometimes the dog keeps me awake, too.

Finally my mother told me to go out after them, but I said it wasn’t a good idea because if both the dog and my father were lost, what were the chances that I’d be able to find my way home? She said not to be silly. We live in Dublin, not in deepest darkest Africa. I’m not so sure there’s a difference. Fortunately, before we had finished our discussion, both father and dog had returned. It turned out not to be the same father and dog that had left the house, but mother and I agreed that all in all it balanced out, so what was the harm?

It was starting to get dark, so mother told me to hurry if I was going to get to Mrs. O’Reilly’s house. I would have made it, but one of my shoes went missing and I didn’t find it until it was almost midnight, at which point I, my mother and my new father all agreed it was much too late to call on Mrs. O’Reilly, especially since we’d never met a Mrs. O’Reilly and so had no idea where she might live.

Life is odd sometimes.

December 31, 1948

I’d made plans to meet my friend, Danny, at the corner store today. Before I left the house, though, I had to do the dishes because it was my turn, at least according to my sister. We take turns. She does the dishes one day, then I do the dishes the next day. But I think she was lying about it being my turn today, although I can’t prove it. I told her I’d done the dishes yesterday, and she said that meant it was my turn to do them again because yesterday was two days before tomorrow and that means it was my turn. I’m sure there’s a flaw in her reasoning, but she’s too clever by half.

Anyway, after doing up the dishes, I couldn’t find my shoes. This seemed odd because after having finally found my missing shoe the night before I’d worn both of them to bed and was sure I’d still been wearing them this morning. After searching the house for an hour I finally found them. It turns out I’d put them on the wrong feet the night before.

By the time I finally made it out of the house it was after nine o’clock and the corner store would have been closed, so I didn’t bother going.

January 1, 1949

These are my New Year’s resolutions.

1. Try to be on time for things.

(Huh — I guess I only have one resolution

April 10, 2014

Sue Townsend dies.

April 13, 1906

Samuel Beckett is born.

 

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