Sleep, slept, slept

     Mr. Sleep was comfortably sitting on a sofa and reading The Times. Once in a while he would grudgingly mutter something about the Prime Minister and the Parliament. He was having a difficult time getting in an upright position since he comfortably got himself into a horizontal one. Mr. Sleep was of a short stature, slightly overweight and bold, as well as, indefinitely good-natured. He planted down his glasses on his nose, readily picked up his pencil and began his usual morning routine, the solving of the morning newspaper’s crossword. More often than not, this process lasted all the way to lunch.
     On the porch there were scuffle noises and children’s laughter before the key turned in a lock and two madcap boys entered the house. The twins Slept and Slept tumbled into the room without taking their shoes off, dropped their schoolbags and continued to pummel each other, without paying attention to their father.
     «Oi! You two! Quiet! » irritably shouted their dad. The children continued to ignore him. «Be quiet, I said! Or else…» shouted Mr. Sleep again. For a split second the twins got away from each other and stared at their father. «And what are you going to do to us? You are too lazy to get up. And even if you do, you won’t catch us! » the boys said laughing. As they said the words, they ran into their room.
     «Oh dear» muttered Mr. Sleep, reluctantly turning on the sofa trying to find his slippers with his feet. «Might as well get up. Got to feed the twins. »
    Somehow, Mr. Sleep finally got up, grunted, gripped his hands on his lower back and scuffled to the kitchen. «Mrs. Do’s children, there is a sight to behold. Always helpful, not like these two. They just want to tease, » sighed Mr. Sleep as he began to pour borsht into the bowl.

     Meanwhile in a house two doors down Mrs. Do was standing at the stove, frying fish and waiting for her sons Did and Done, or Din-Don as she affectionately called them, to come home from school. «Ah! They are always getting themselves into something. Not a second can go by without their nose in something or other. Who do they take after I wonder? » grumbled under her breath Mrs. Do. «Just take Mr. Does…although he is no better either. Has to have his finger in every pie, » Mrs. Do continued to mutter.
     Mrs. Do flipped the fish and looked out of the window. It was a sunny spring day. The windows of the houses were wide open and soon enough she heard a harmonic rendition of «Let it be».
«Ah» said Mrs. Do, «the triples Put and Let are coming back from music school. How cute are they? Although I can’t tell them apart, but let’s hope their parents don’t mix them up».
     The Put triples were singing the alto part, while the Let triples were the sopranos. As they were walking past Mr. Does’ house, they turned the corner and the singing subsided.

     Near the neighbor’s house, Mrs. Do recognized Mr. Can, who was waiting for his children with a can of Coke in his hand. He had high hopes for his kids, which they were not fulfilling as successfully as he would’ve liked. Once the children saw his father over the fence they stopped jumping and with their heads hanging low they entered through the garden gate. «Not again» thought to himself Mr. Can «Either they’ve got bad marks or have been reprimanded». Visibly upset he once again accidentally spilled his Coke on the wildly growing daisies. From this usual habit of his, the daisies began to grow beige. Mr. Can has developed a new kind of flowers; however, he did not even recognize it.
     In the other half of the house there lived Mrs. Must, who each day met with her daughters Might and Might and led them home. She did not socialize with the Cans and forbade her daughters to do so. She was a strict and arrogant woman, who could not understand how on Earth she has landed into the Irregular Verbs Block. And she refused to accept it.

     Mrs. Do returned to her frying pan. Her fish has been successfully cooked. She put it to the side, as she began to prepare the mashed potatoes.
     Together with the bee that flew into the open window, the wind carried in the sounds of the radio from the neighboring block: «Good day, my dear people of the Regular Verbs Block. With you today is Mrs. Want. What I would like to tell you on this wonderful day is…. »
     «Oh you don’t want to tell us anything, » grumbled Mrs. Do, closing the window a bit. The radio from the neighboring block irritated her. «You should pay more attention to Mr. Want, since he does whatever he wants. Just yesterday he was once again seen in a Yellow Submarine pub, trying to seduce Miss Please. As if!  And you ought to look after your dear son Wants, who rides his moped on our street as if he was a mad person. Oh but on his block there are too many streetlights that hinder him. What, if we do not have any, that means he can do whatever he likes? » she said under her breath, as she continued to mash the potatoes, generously pouring in milk and putting in butter.
     «How do these regular verbs do it? How is it that everything’s normal there? Each family has a father and a mother and always only one child; the houses are lined so straight as if they’ve been measured with the ruler; and the gardens are so nice and tidy frogs are afraid to jump there, » Mrs. Do was thinking.
     «And what do we have? A postman gets lost almost every time! The houses are in completely random order, organized without any particular logic. There are not any numbers on the houses. One has to memorize where what family lives. The house of Mr. Go, who is into Chinese medicine, the hut of Mr. Be with the adjoining «Shall and Will» car repair shop, the building office of Mr. Build… The yards are almost too green because we do not really take care of them. Whatever began growing there we just let it be. There are not any purple cactuses, like the ones in the Green supermarket of Mrs. Invite in the next block. On the other hand, maybe it is better this way. This lack of logic. At least there are no rules and regulations.»
     Mrs. Do thought to herself, as she took off her apron and placed it on a stand. She smiled to herself and hurried into the other room to iron Mr. Does’ fancy shirt. He will be presenting this evening at the Dictionary Recreation Centre in honor of the foreign guests from Russia.