tire swing stories

I'm a pylon who's still got it.

Look at me. I'm bright and sturdy. I used to be irresistible. Females would be toppling over just to get at me. Yes, sir. I'm not just some old tired piece of plastic who Barbara abandoned. My wife hitched a ride on the back of a truck, first chance she got. Floozy.

"What's a floozy, Dad?"  

"Never mind, you weren't supposed to hear that. Eli, straighten up." 

"Dad, I'm bored. Can we go home?" 

"Margo, you know the answer. We go home when the job's done." 

"Dad! Chester's too close to me!" 

"That's it. I don't want to hear another word outta you three kids. From now on, we're playing the quiet game." 

Do you know how hard it is for a pylon to get a date at a construction site? The stop signs are always such snobs, the drills are irritating, and the backhoe...well, I don't need to say it, do I? And then, I'm a single Dad, taking care of these kids day in and day out. As if I didn't have dreams for my life. As if I didn't want adventure or travel. Sometimes I think I should just leave it all behind...

"Hey, kids, what's that squealing sound? Eli! Look out for that car. Eliiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!!!

 
Oh, no. No, Eli. You're so dented. You got dragged under the wheel of that car. Eli? Can you hear me? Son, come back. Don't go towards the light." 

"Dad?" 

"Eli! Thank god you're alive." 

"Sorry, Dad." 

No, I'm the one who's sorry. I should've been watching you. I love you so much. Listen, you kids stay close to your Pop, alright? You're everything to me."