Why did she have to be named Dylan? Were her parents out to get her even before she came in to this world? She was a girl, for Christ’s sake. And helllloooooo….. she didn’t dance naked at Woodstock, THEY did. Mom! Dad! Take a good look at Bob Dylan. In the freakin’ light. Were you really thinking that your new pink bundle of joy looked anything like that ugly mug?
Dylan sighed and turned on the TV. “This is Entertainment Tonight! Today we will be talking about Dylan Farrow’s open letter to the public, accusing Woody Allen of raping her when she was only seven years old!”
Throwing the remote down, Dylan stormed out of the den and out the front door. She averted her eyes as she passed her Mom’s VW bus, but was caught just the same. Hearing the familiar sound of a window rolling down, Dylan turned to see smoke pouring out.
“Dylan!” <cough> Dylannnnnnnn honey! <cough><cough> Where are you going?”
Begrudgingly, Dylan marched back to the VW and peered in. “I’m gonna go get a burger. And Jesus Mom, why don’t you put your shirt back on!”
Spinning around, she started to leave. But not until she paused, turned and called out, “And why didn’t you name me Nicky, for heaven’s sakes!”
Stomping away in her gorgeous new heels, she began her trek to White Castle. She just loved their melted cheese.
Thank you to the sponsor of this writing challenge post, Nicky, for letting me put your shoe picture at the end of my post. (She had no idea…)