Johnny was at school, head in his hands, looking utterly dejected. Little Timmy, ever the curious one, bounced over. “What’s wrong, Johnny? You look like you lost your puppy!”
Johnny sighed. “It’s my dad. He’s got a new job.”
Timmy perked up. “That’s great news! What does he do?”
Johnny groaned. “That’s the problem! He’s a… a professional mime.”
Timmy blinked. “A mime? But… that sounds kinda cool! Pretending to be trapped in a box all day?”
“Cool? Timmy, I have to watch him practice! He spends hours silently pulling imaginary ropes! Last night, he ‘walked against the wind’ so hard he knocked over the lamp and blamed it on a rogue draft!”
Timmy giggled. “Okay, maybe a little embarrassing. But at least he’s employed, right?”
Johnny shook his head sadly. “You don’t understand. He’s SO into it. He even tries to mime instructions when he’s helping me with my homework! Try solving a math problem when your dad is silently pointing and making confused faces!”
The school bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Timmy clapped Johnny on the back. “Cheer up, maybe it’ll get better! Hey, at least he’s quiet!”
The next day, Johnny was even gloomier. Timmy rushed over. “Okay, what happened now? Did your dad mime his way into a locked cupboard?”
Johnny looked up, defeated. “Worse. It’s career day at school next week. And guess who’s been asked to represent the arts?”
Timmy’s eyes widened in horror. “No…”
Johnny nodded miserably. “Yep. Johnny’s dad. A real sht… silent type!”
