MARLO THOMAS
MAKE ROOM FOR DANNY
Danny Thomas with Bill Davidson
G.K. Hall and Co.
Boston, Mass. 1991
(pages 161-162)
Then came Marlo’s first prom. A boy in a blue suit was
waiting for her
downstairs, his Thunderbird at the ??? out front. I was calling
Marlo
"Mugsy" at the time. I said, "Mugsy, what time you
getting home?
Midnight, right?" She said, "Okay, Daddy," and
like a damn fool I
said, "Honor bright?" She gave me a little shoulder
take, like you do
in vaudeville and said, "Aah, Daddy," as if I should
believe her even
if she didn’t say, "honor bright," which she
skillfully avoided saying.
I decided to give a little, "What about one
o’clock?" Still no "honor
bright." Just, "Goodbye Mom, goodbye Dad. I love
you."
One o’clock came, and no Mugsy. I got my shotgun out of its
case and
went out into the garden to wait for her - and especially her
escort. I
was sitting in a lawn chair, dozing off when suddenly the
automatic
sprinklers came on, soaking me from head to foot. While I was
inside
changing my clothes, Marlo/Mugsy came home. Seeing the shotgun,
which
I had left on the lawn, she dispatched her innocent young man
immediately.
She came inside and ran up the stairs as quickly as she could,
seeking
Rose Marie’s protection. I was right behind her on the
stairs, beating
a tattoo on her rear end. The bedroom door closed and I was left
standing there, still wet, and feeling like a jerk. Those were
the
days when girls wore seventeen petticoats, making any attempt to
spank
them meaningless. Marlo confirmed that in the morning, when I had
calmed down, kissed her, and apologized. "I didn’t feel
a thing," said
Marlo, adding, "Honor bright."