But there was a problem, you see. A very big problem. The year was 1856 and cars hadn’t been invented yet, let alone incriments of time called ‘hours’. I had backed myself into a corner again. Just like that last time when farmer Jebediah bet me that I couldn’t hack into the FBI’s mainframe.
The problem was that I was always looking ahead. Never gave the past a second thought, let alone the present. I liked to think of myself as “Tomorrow’s Child”. Like these dirty dishes, for instance. Why would I do them now when I could do them next month? And why should I be handling dishes if I am a child?
Foot loose and fancy free, that was my motto. That sentiment seemed to bode well with my gambling problem. How many chickens can I fit into a bread box you ask? Apparently none. Chickens are pretty squirmy. You can fit one dead fish in there though. And one loaf of bread. That bet cost me a fish, a loaf of bread, a bread box and a second loaf of bread.
Kay Sera, Sera. So just go ahead and challenge me. I dare you. I haven’t lost a bet since the last time.