The Tale of Pervert Schmidt

– It was past the midnight hour, it made sense at the time –

I often rise and write in middle of the night, sometimes I’m awake and coherent, other times – not so much. You know how when you’re dreaming, things make a weird kind of sense they certainly never make in the light of day? Well, my nighttime romps with words are sometimes like that.

This made sense. It did. I woke up thinking I’d written a little love story about two people who thought they would never find love because they were never quite accepted for some reason, until they find it with each other.

I kind of did that, but not the way I thought I did. 

So . . . I can’t believe I’m even sharing this – I give you the awkward love story of P and I.

* * *

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Pervert Marion Schmidt. Yep, you read that right. His name was Pervert. You see, Pervert’s mother was minus a few marbles, in the most innocent of ways, and his father lived to see and make her happy. 

When they welcomed in the new love of their lives, a brand new baby boy, momma looked at him and declared his name would be Pervert. She meant no harm of course, she thought it sounded manly, like Herbert, but better. Father couldn’t bring himself to tell her anything different.

His initials, in case you hadn’t noticed, were PMS. Life for little Pervert was rough. When he was old enough, and after momma passed away, (he couldn’t bring himself to tell her either), he changed his name to P. No middle initial, Just P Schmidt.

PS, like the almost forgotten things people leave at the bottom of letters. Post Script, it suited him well, he often felt like a post script, nothing more than an afterthought. 

Then one day he met a woman, she introduced herself as I. Her name was Icky. It wasn’t meant to be, of course, but a careless hand forgot the V when scribbling out her birth certificate. Icky Love (because her parents loved her so) Underwood. It hadn’t been easy for Icky. When she was old enough, she changed her name to I. She signed her name, I Love Underwood. It wasn’t perfect, but it was better.

They met waiting in a too long line at the DMV, struck up a conversation, went out for coffee, and before they knew it, they were spending every free moment they had in each others company. I’m sure you can guess what’s going to happen next, but it almost didn’t.

P was falling in Love with I, but he wasn’t certain she felt the same and he started spending less time with her, just in case. He’d spent a long time feeling overlooked or undervalued. Spending most of his life chained with the name Pervert, left him with little confidence. A thing like that leaves a guy with some baggage, you know?

Poor I was confused. P wasn’t returning her calls so she sent him a letter.

P,

I haven’t heard from you in a while, I just wanted you to know I miss you.

Oh, and PS, I Love Underwood

When P read that letter he knew nothing from the past mattered. He called I. They were married not long after. When their first little bundle of joy was born, a beautiful baby boy, they named him Steve. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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