Fred and Annie

By Paul Milson

Summary

A few days out from Mother’s Day, two young people meet and discuss what they are going to do this year (to avoid previous disasters).

Characters

Fred
Annie

Script

Annie: Hi Fred
Fred: Hi Annie, hey guess where I’ve just been?
Annie: Where
Fred: The hospital!
Annie: Are you OK?  What happened?
Fred: I’m OK.  I was helping Dad fix the car when he asked me to pass him  the big monkey wrench.  I’d just got home from rugby practice so I when I passed him the big monkey wrench I did my best Justin Marshall impersonation and did a beautiful spiral pass.  The trouble was that he wasn’t watching so he intercepted it real well with his head.
Annie: Is your Dad okay?  Was he mad?
Fred: He wasn’t too mad.  He didn’t blame me.  He said ultimately it was mum’s fault for wanting to have three kids instead of two – and he said he needed new glasses anyway.  Apparently the stitches come out in five days.
Annie: Hey, guess what I’m doing for my mum for Mother’s Day tomorrow?
Dunno.
Fred:
Annie: I’m getting her flowers!  Isn’t that nice.
Fred: If you’re getting her flowers you should ask if she’s allergic to any first?
Annie: What do you mean?
Fred: Well, I got mum flowers last year.  I saw some growing by the side of the road and picked them for her.  Trouble was that I didn’t know she was allergic to thistles.  When she got anywhere near them she sneezed and coughed, and then she swelled up like a balloon and got spots just about straight away.  She looked like a giant raspberry.
Annie: So she didn’t like the present?
Fred: Not the flowers, but she was quite excited about the ride to hospital – she’d never been in an ambulance before.  She was a bit disappointed though cos she only got to the see the ceiling.
Annie: Well, maybe I’ll make mum breakfast in bed.
Fred: That’s a good idea, Annie, but if you do, don’t cook breakfast with a blow torch.
Annie: What?
Fred: A blow torch.
Annie: A blow torch?
Fred: Well the year before I’d tried to cook mum breakfast but I didn’t know how to use the stove top, but Dad had shown me how to use to blow torch, so I took that to the kitchen and warmed the pancake mixture with that
Annie: Fred, that’s a really dumb idea!
Fred: Wow, how did you know?
Annie: Just guessing.
Fred: I started to realise it was a stupid idea when the plastic container that the mixture was in started to melt – and then the fireman said something similar when he was doing his investigation.
Annie: I hate to ask this, Fred, but what are you doing for Mother’s Day this year?
Fred: After last mother’s day, mum said it was more than enough that I just think nice things about her, but not to do anything.  So this year I wrote her a poem.
Annie: Can I hear it?
Fred: Yep, it goes like this – (clear throat – cough)
Roses are red, violets are sort of a purpley colour
This a just a poem from your wee fella
Without you looking after me, my life would be all blue
Who else could I manipulate the way I do with you?
Without you cooking all my meals, I’d have a great big gut
Dad can only cook a steak, and order Pizza Hutt
Without you looking after me I’d waste so much time at home
It’s so much quicker to just yell “Mum” than to find things on my own
Without your love and care for me, I’d get no sympathy
I need a bandaid and a hug when I skin my knee
Without you Mum this world would be a scary place to stay
So my gift for thee is a disaster-free lovely Mother’s Day
Annie: That’s beautiful, Fred.  I’m going to write my mum a poem.
Fred: If you do, don’t write it on the mum’s white board using a vivid marker.
Annie: I won’t.  Bye Fred.
Fred: Bye Annie.

....................................................................................
© Paul Milson 2002, all rights reserved
This play may be performed free of charge, on the condition that copies are not sold for profit in any medium, nor any
entrance fee charged. In exchange for free performance, the author would appreciate being notified of when and for what
purpose the play is performed. He may be contacted at: milson@maxnet.co.nz