Short Story: The Last Word

Short Story: The Last Word

Kid content with kid humor—mine as well as the child in question. His name has been changed to protect his identity now that he has become a sensitive, and no doubt, a moody teenager—and really-- it just wouldn’t be nice. I will not be held responsible for what happens if his sister gets a hold of this—however she should remember-- I know her stories too.

THE LAST WORD

A few years ago, I was taking care of a young boy, 7 years old, named…..Fife. He had a very bad habit that made me very crazy. One day we had played a few card games and were starting a new one. I looked up to see his index finger buried two knuckles deep in his nostril. Gingerly moving the very tips of my fingers to the very edge of my cards, I wondered how I could possibly sanitize a pack of playing cards.

I let an exasperated howl out of me and said, “Would you please stop that! Don’t you know if you pick your nose, your head will cave in?” Normally the reprimand with a little humor was enough to remind him—without embarrassing him.

But not that day; I had told him this before and he obviously had thought about it.

He looked at me calmly and said, “How is that even possible?”

So, wanting to have the last word, I took a deep breath and taking creative license said, “Those bits from your nose?”

“Yeah,” he replied.

“Well," I said, "they are actually little pieces of your brain and if you keep taking them out there will be nothing left to hold your face up.”

He looked me straight in the eye, knowing precisely how I would respond and said, “Does that mean I’ve eaten over half my brain?”

AARRRGGGHHHH!