Sure enough, at 7am, there we were.

“How was your evening, dear aunt?” I asked.

“Oh divine.  He painted a picture of me!”

“Wait, isn’t that changing history?”

“Well, no it’s not.  He put a wig and a lot of makeup on me … say, do you want to go to the Louvre with me next weekend and view the finished product?”

At that moment, Leonardo da Vinci came by, kissed Aunt Ruth on the hand, and said, “You are a real good model.”

“Really,” said Aunt Ruth.

“Yes, really, you are,” replied Leonardo.

Then he turned to me and said, “Thank you for introducing me to your lovely aunt. You da man!”

I smiled and said, “You’re more than welcome. You da Vinci.”

He laughed.

It was then that the restaurant man in the poofy white hat, Peachy, stepped out of his shop and ran excitedly across the street toward us.

“Mama Mia, Tia Ruthina, I must-ah tell you, I am so happy. A man from Egypt came to my restaurant just now, and he was so impressed with the new pizza that he is going to pay me royalties so he can open up his own pizza restaurant back in Cairo. You know what he’s going to call it?”

“What is he going to call it?”

“You’ll love this. He’s going to call it … Pizza Tut.”

We all laughed.

In my focus on setting up the Time Machine for the return trip, I forgot the standard closing lines for these stories. Thank goodness Aunt Ruth jumped in.

“Say good night, Peachy,” Aunt Ruth commanded.

“Good night Peachy,” he responded.

“Say good night, Leonardo,” Aunt Ruth again dictated.

“Good night Leonardo,” da Vinci replied. And looking at Aunt Ruth, he said, “And good night, ML.  Oh how I do love your smile.”

“ML?” I thought to myself. And then I saw Aunt Ruth smile. In the dim morning light, there was something familiar about that smile, something really familiar.

For other Aunt Ruth stories, consider the following.

Aunt Ruth and the Crown Prince of Wells

On Apostrophes and Aunt Ruth

Aunt Ruth (Parenthetically) Speaks