Bobby grew up in a place where there wasn’t enough of anything, so they had to make do what what they had.
Instead of sugar, they’d substitute honey.
Instead of milk, they substituted powered milk and water.
And chicken was a substitute for turkey on Thanksgiving.
The school was staffed entirely by substitute teachers. Not a single real teacher in the district.
Bobby raised his hand. “You’re not substitutes if you’re doing all the teaching for the year,” he said. “You’re the actual teacher.”
The teacher gave Bobby detention, and told him to be quiet and eat his turkey sandwich.
Tag: childhood
Rich
Some parents tell their children about the birds and the bees, but Richie Rich was taught about the bears and bulls.
This made for a troublesome learning curve when it came to dating.
Where others were making out in malt shops, movie theaters and Lookout Point, Richie had a hard time convincing any girls to play “Red Capes And Picnic Baskets.”
Until he started paying them to do it.
I mean, come on. The kid was loaded. He could by the finest ass available.
Instead of graduating from Wharton, Richie mastered Whoredom.
Cadbury the butler saw it all.
And wept.
Out Of Network
Growing up, my pediatrician was Dr. Mengele.
Yes, it’s true. The infamous war criminal who did medical experiments in the Nazi concentration camps.
Sure, he went under the name Dr. Sherman, but he couldn’t fool me: he was Mengele.
How did I know?
Well, instead of “Feed a cold, starve a fever” he’d say “Gas a cold, gas a fever.”
When I sprained my ankle, he prescribed gas.
Same with upset stomach, chicken pox, and everything else that happened to me.
The worst part of it was that he was outside my Dad’s HMO network, so the co-pays were murder!
The Prank
It was your typical kindergarten classroom.
Art supplies, colorful dangling mobiles, and a lot of construction paper cutouts.
On one board, a bunch of colors spelled out:
Red was red
Green was green
Blue was blue.
That weekend, Mom dragged me to a hobby shop.
I begged for construction paper letters.
When April first finally rolled around, the teacher left the room, and I took down the colored words.
Then, I added my own:
Blue was red
Red was yellow
Yellow was green
I got sent to the principal’s office.
But not for the prank.
They thought I was color-blind.
Hole in the ground
Bobby wanted to dig a hole to China.
His mother said it couldn’t be done.
So, instead of digging to China, he dug a hole to Hell.
That wasn’t so hard to do, really. Just took him a few minutes dripping some blood from his fingertip on to his trowel.
The trowel bit into the dirt, drew out a clump, and a large blast of fire and heat exploded from the back yard.
Bobby, his mother, and the house vanished instantly.
After a day of infernal madness, the government sealed off the block and said “It’s just a gas leak.”
Making Things
Groucho once said: “Why it’s so simple, a four year-old child could understand it. Now go out and get me a four year old child cause I can’t make head or tail of it.”
His assistants would load up their child-catching van, head to the playground, and capture a four year-old to bring back to Groucho.
Not only did the child not understand, but their parents were disagreeable about the kidnapping.
Most were mollified by an autographed photo, but others insisted on money.
Once, they threatened to press charges.
Harpo killed them. He knew how to keep his mouth shut.
Roughing It
When I was young, we’d go camping.
Well, almost.
It was more of a log cabin-themed motel with pine trees planted in the field by the parking lot.
A bed as uncomfortable as a sleeping bag.
There was a lake, but we never went to it.
Which was good, since I don’t like boats. Or fishing.
Or camping.
There were bugs, though. Lots of them.
I don’t remember any roasting marshmallows or hot dogs, but I do remember a fire.
I think everybody got out in time. I don’t think anybody got hurt.
We drove home.
My bed felt wonderful.
Ozymandias
When I was growing up, I had a lamp with a toy soldier standing next to a cannon and guardhouse.
He had no name.
I wanted to turn the lamp so the soldier watched over me while I slept, but that would turn the cannon to face me, and what if it went off?
Not good.
So, I turned the lamp so the soldier and the cannon faced the door.
I didn’t sleep well at all.
That’s when I tried to turn the soldier on the lamp’s base.
He broke at the shins.
I named him Ozymandias.
And slept well.
The Boy Who Never Laughed
Dr. Odd was presented with the case of The Boy Who Never Laughed.
The first week was spent reading joke books to him.
No reaction.
After that, he dressed as a clown and performed various silly acts, such as juggling Bunsen burners or constructing molecular formulas and atomic structures out of balloons.
No reaction.
Finally, the doctor tickled The Boy with feathers of various species of bird, common and rare.
“Coochy coo!” he trilled.
No reaction.
Exhausted, Dr. Odd slumped in his chair…. and fell to the floor.
The Boy laughed and laughed.
Dr. Odd punched him in the face.
The Zoo Train
One of my earliest memories was when mom and dad would take me to the zoo, where we’d ride the train.
I think my grandfather was there. I’m not sure. I don’t remember much of him.
Every few years, we’d meet together at the zoo, looking at all the changes to exhibits, new animals, cages replaced with glass walls or open roaming areas.
The train gets polished up, repainted.
We took my kids there. We’d ride, look around. So many changes, so many things stay the same.
The monkeys, the giraffes, the lions.
The memories, as we all ride on.