Dan Liebke’s Astonishing Tales

One day, when I was a lad of, oh, about eight or so, some social workers came to our school and made us fill in some forms. One of these forms asked us to rate our parents as good, fair or poor. Being far too literal-minded, even at that young age, I found myself in quite the quandary - my parents were good and fair and poor. I eventually decided to choose ‘poor’, primarily I think because just the month before, strapped for cash, we had failed to pay our gravity bill and had spent the entire month trying to avoid floating off into space. And we didn’t have any of those fancy-schmancy space suits either. If we found ourselves floating into the icy vacuum of space, we just held our breath and wrapped up warm until we could work our way back down. I’m really not at all sure where I’m going with this story but I was taken away by the social workers and raised by rhesus monkeys, so I don’t think I can be blamed for, well, anything really.

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