"Good, as long as someone's there to feed the dog." I said.
"Don't worry about it. He's got it under," Myself started. "Uh oh."
I followed his eyes, spun around, and my jaw dropped open. There was Me.
"What's happening guys?" He asked casually. "What are we discussing?"
"What the heck are you doing here?" I shouted. You're supposed to be at home, watching the dog!"
"Myself decided the dog didn't need a baby sitter, so I gave the mutt a bowl of water and locked him in the linen closet." Said Me.
I spun and glared at Myself. "You did what?" I asked.
"Hey, if you left that dog with Me, then he's as good as dead anyway." Said Myself.
"Now that's just down, right rude," yelled Me. "I thinks I'm very responsible."
"Actually, I thinks you're an idiot." Said Myself.
"You're both idiots!" I yelled back at Myself.
"Well, there's really no need to get ugly," says Me. "I simply wanted someone else to do his job for him."
"That's exactly why I told Me to watch the dog." Myself chided.
"Why on earth would you lock the dog in the closet?" I screamed at Me.
"Because, he was too big to fit in the microwave!" Me yelled back.
"Personally, I would have locked him in the refrigerator." Myself said to Me. "At least there's food in there.
I stood between Me and Myself, lost in the chaos of the moment. Looking back and forth, watching my soul argue with my flesh, I came to one simple conclusion: I should have asked God whether or not to buy that dog in the first place.
Ennis Smith lives in Lincoln Park, Michigan with his wife and five children. Mr. Smith joined Faithwriters to improve his writing skills. He recently had a short story entitled 'How Come Rocks Can't Talk' published for the Webzine "WHEREVER IT PLEASES". www.facebook.com/ennis.smith.52