It started with one gigantic clock, purchased at the local mall and hung on the wall of his newly rented bachelor pad. For the second time that decade, The Clockmaker was a single man, free to make his own choices, even if they were ill-advised, such as the enormous 4-foot diameter circular clock (trimmed in brass and oak, none-the-less). He purchased other things for his new home, as well- a dented (thus discounted) refrigerator, a beige couch with a foldout bed for when his children stayed over, a water bed with a mirrored headboard. But the clock, with it’s key easily 3 times the size of the ones used to start his car or enter his apartment, was the jewel in this bachelor’s crown. He beamed with the pride of a new father when talking about or showing off his enormous clock. Sure, his second marriage had ended in a flaming ball of fire, but he had this fancy new great big clock, so things were surely looking up.
That one humongous clock on his wall soon begat another, which of course begat twins. With his new family expanding so quickly, The Clockmaker realized that he was going to have to move to a larger, more permanent home.
“Find me a home with a lot of wall space and a very long hallway where I can display my collection,” he told the realtor. ”And it must have two very important things: A fireplace mantle where I can hang my favorite clock and a shop where I can work.”
The Clockmaker unpacked his very last box in early summer and by fall he had a full house… of people. It began when he went outside one morning to retrieve the daily paper and instead found his Son sitting on his doormat.
“He’s out of control. I don’t know what more to do with him. He needs his father. Feed him 3 times a day, give him plenty of sunshine and send him to school during the week,” read the note pinned to his shirt. He was 10, and could speak and read and had all of his adult teeth, but The Clockmaker needed explicate instructions when it came to kids.
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