Day 7: Bonzer

Word of the Day:



Australian. remarkable; wonderful.

Ugh.  It is ten o’clock at night, and I’m too tired for this, but I’m a perfectionist who has to meet my commitments, and I have to write.  Fair warning:  This is likely to be terrible.

“Well, that’s just bloody bonzer!” I said, pulling my head out from under the hood.

“What?” said Jeremiah.  “What’s wrong with it?”

“I have no bloody idea,” I said.  “I never knew a thing about cars.”

“Well,” said Jeremiah slowly.  “I don’t know much either.”

This was hardly a shocking fact: Jeremiah was nine years old.  I sighed.

“Guess we’ve got to walk, then,” I said.

“Guess we’ve got to,” said Jeremiah.

Confession:  That took me seven minutes, and it is the worst thing I think I’ve ever written.  My deepest apologies.  I’ll make it up to you tomorrow (maybe).

Good night,

Cara Kennaway


2 thoughts on “Day 7: Bonzer

  1. “Let me tell you, hon, the fella manning the counter in that little shop is downright bonzer,” Kim said as she breezed into the room and flung all her shopping bags onto the table.

    “What little shop?” I asked in as polite a voice as I could manage. Kim, one of Dad’s colleagues (and a native of Australia) had been staying with us for four whole weeks by then. I couldn’t understand what she was saying half the time and her perpetual cheeriness was deeply annoying, but Dad said I had to be nice to her, so I was doing my best.

    “Oh, I’m blessed if I know! I can hardly tell any of ’em apart and they’ve got the funniest little names that you’re like to forget in a moment. I won’t forget that boy, though. Mmm.” With that, she went upstairs, leaving the bags on the table.

    I briefly stared after her, wondering how it was possible for someone so scatterbrained to be a scientist. I was also wondering how much longer she would be trespassing on our hospitality. Four weeks is an oddly long time to a houseguest, after all (particularly when that houseguest constantly uses incomprehensible Australian slang and has a weird tendency to forget the names of stores mere minutes after she’s visited them).

    I figured it couldn’t be too much more time. I could keep on being polite. I am a strong and patient person, I thought to myself.


    I *really* wasn’t at all counting on Dad marrying her.

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