Some kids go to college and never come back.
Other kids never leave.
Me, I was emancipated at the age of 3.
But we agreed not to make a big deal of it.
So, I went to a boarding pre-school and kept up the act from year to year.
Sure, it wasn’t easy, paying for it all, but my parents lent me the cash now and then.
Maybe they charged a little too much interest, but the banks kept saying no.
Now, after years of hard work, I’m on Easy Street.
Well, the alley behind it.
Spare some change, mister?
Tag: childhood
Dog Brain
Ruth and Paul were enjoying a quiet evening at home when their son Timmy crawled in the door on all fours, barking madly.
“Lassie, what is it?” said Paul. “Did the mad scientist next door switch your brain with Timmy again?”
Timmy barked.
“And he fell down the well?” said Ruth.
Timmy barked again, then looked back at the door, whining.
Ruth and Paul looked at each other and shrugged.
Paul got up, and closed the door.
“Boy was a pain in the ass,” he said.
The new Lassie shed a lot less.
And shat on the carpet less, too.
Puzzle
Owen is only a year old, but he solves puzzles.
He never puts the pieces in his mouth or tosses them into the air.
Instead, he picks out sides and corners and snaps the puzzle together quickly.
When he’s done, he moves on to the next puzzle.
No Legos.
No Tinkertoys, blocks or Lincoln Logs.
He smiles and waits for a puzzle.
I gave him an all-white puzzle, and he solved it just as quickly.
Monica left the fridge open this morning.
Owen crawled in, and started to assemble the food within.
That’s when we heard the moaning.
And screaming.
Weedhaven
Listen to the children.
Laughing.
Crying.
Screaming.
Another fine day at The Weedhaven Laughing Academy.
They are all in their pajamas.
They are all in their rooms.
They are all in their beds.
Laughing.
Crying.
Screaming.
Will we let them out?
Will we let them play?
Will we let them have fun today?
No, no matter how much they laugh.
Or cry.
Or scream.
Check the locks on the doors.
Check them twice.
And check them again.
Don’t worry about the bars on the windows.
There are no bars.
Or windows.
Just walls.
To contain the children.
Laughing.
Crying.
Screaming.
Woodshed
Whenever Joey is bad, I tell him to fetch my belt and meet me behind the shed.
He stands there, holding out my belt.
I take it from him and put it on. “Darn trousers keep slipping without it.”
I grab his head by the ears, twist it off, and take it into the shed where I keep his spare parts.
There’s two heads on the workbench, but one’s torn down.
I put down the head in my hands and pick up the other.
When I go back outside, Joey’s gone.
When I find him, yeah, he’s getting the belt.
A Hard Lesson To Learn
The teacher held a globe near a bright light.
“Let’s say the light is the sun,” she said. “As we turn the globe, we see how the sunlight falls on different parts of the world, making night and day.”
She went on to demonstrate the earth’s axis, seasons, the earth’s orbit…
But Joshua had heard enough.
“This proves that there is no God, no Heaven, no angels,” he whispered to the angel standing next to his desk. “So go away.”
“Who do you think set all this up?” asked the angel.
Joshua sighed, and changed his milk to chocolate milk.
The Second Job
It’s been a long day, but it isn’t over yet.
Going home means one job ends and another begins: Being a mother.
It’s like work, but with none of the benefits.
The kids never greet me with “Hi, Mom!” or “Welcome home!”
It’s always “What are we having for dinner tonight?”
Well…
“Hold your mouth.
Close your eyes.
Open your mouth.
And here’s the big surprise.”
And then I stick a wad of pizza coupons in one of their mouths and my cell phone in the other.
Little shits will probably order three larges with anchovies on all of them.
The Circle Of Not Life
Poor Charlie Brown.
Every Halloween, we’d watch his Great Pumpkin Special, hoping he’d get candy, but he ended up getting a bag full of rocks.
I’d dream of Charlie, waking up before the break of dawn with that bag full of rocks, going from house to house, tossing those rocks through windows and yelling “ALL I WANTED WAS SOME GODDAMNED CANDY!”
Instead, I think he crafted Pet Rocks out of them and made a fortune selling them as Christmas gifts.
People got bored with them, and on Halloween, they’d drop them in Charlie’s bag again.
“SON OF A FUCKING BITCH!”
School’s Out
Our school can’t afford the electric bill.
Wind turbines, solar cells, and other renewable energies just can’t generate all the energy we need.
So, we rigged up a system of wires and pulleys to the backs of students heads so as they fall asleep from boredom, their nodding off are driving flywheels hooked to magnets.
The results have been spectacular. We have more than enough energy for our needs. In fact, we’re making money by sending energy back to the grid.
Problem is, we’re having to bore our students. Nobody’s learning anything.
Oh well. As if that’s anything new, right?
Billy Hill
My name is William Hill.
Call me William.
Do not call me Billy.
In school, the teacher would read the roll call.
So, he’d read my name as Hill Billy.
And everyone would laugh.
They’d ask me if I bathed in a creek, slept in a pig pen, or if my dad made moonshine.
Yes, I bathed in a creek.
Yes, I slept in a pigpen.
And, yes, my dad made moonshine.
It was the best moonshine in the state, and when he got a distillery license, we got filthy stinking rich.
(Okay, so maybe the stink was the pigs.)