What would you do?

I open my eyes.

There's Frankie sitting on the edge of the bed. 

Me:  "Don't DO that!  Have you any idea how unsettling it is to find somebody sitting on a person's bed while that person is still sleeping in it?"

Frankie's brow is deeply furrowed, I know she wants to wax philosophic.  It's waaay to early for one of these conversations      plus      I don't want to. I try to distract her in a not so pleasant voice.

Me:  "Frankie, go away.  Make coffee.   Feed Zorro, feed CC.  Turn on the heat."

I throw the covers over my head.

It's too late.  Here is comes.

Frankie:  "What would you do, just for the fun of it?"

I pretend I'm asleep and didn't hear her.  Shoot, it's too late.  My mind is already conjuring up scenarios.  Dang it!

I slowly inch the covers off my face.

Me:  "How much money do I have?"
Frankie:  (In her not so pleasant voice)  "This has nothing to do with money.  If you could, what would you do just for the fun of it.  Geeze, why do you always over think everything, and why does it always involve money."
Me:  "Because, wealth has everything to do with everything.  The more money I have, the better 'thing' I can do just for the fun of it."

By now Frankie is quite disgusted with me.

Frankie:  "Know what I'd do?  I'd pretend.  I would pretend the 'bestest' stuff ever." 

She pauses.  I know her imagination is racing along at seventy-five miles an hour.  At least!  She gets up and walks over to the bedroom window, dreamy look on her face.

Frankie:  "I'd pretend it's August, insects are making buzzing, chirping sounds.  It's hot."

She turns, looks at me to see if I'm falling into her trance and continues.

Frankie:  "But, not too hot.  I'd throw a blanket across the lawn in a sunny spot and lie down.  Puffy white clouds are meandering across the sky."

Frankie returns to the bed.  "Look", she says, pointing a finger toward the window.  "There's a rabbit."

"There's mushroom."

"There's a silhouette of Alfred Hitchcock."  She laughs, and falls back on top of the blankets.  Frankie rolls over onto  her side, resting her head on her hand.  "You make everything so...so...complicated."

She's right.  I do.  Where my mind went to a private jet and a quick trip to Paris, hers went to something simple and sweet.  There's a lot of silence in the room.

Me:  "Okay!  I've got one!"  Same August afternoon, only, I'd go to the garage and grab a big piece of cardboard. Lock up the house and head for the middle school, where the hills in back have browned.  They are perfect for cardboard sliding.  Oh, it's a bumpy, bumpy ride, teeth jarring.  Still I'd make the trip often enough to tire myself out.  Yep, I'd do that just for the fun of it."

Frankie is delighted I got into the swing of this.

"I've got one!"  She says.

By now I'm out of bed and we're walking down the hall toward the kitchen.

"I'd go to the ice cream store and get myself a cone in every single flavor they have."

Me:  "I'd feed the birds."
Frankie:  "I'd run through the sprinkles."
Me:  "I'd have a whipped cream pie fight."

...................

What would you do just for the fun of it?