Tag: childhood

Celloboe

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When I was young, I played the cello.
I was great.
Then, as I grew older, I played the oboe.
I stopped playing music for a while, but I decided at one point I’d take it back up again.
My old oboe and cello were in storage, but they’d been damaged from the years of neglect and abuse.
So, I tried to fix them in my workshop, and I ended up with a celloboe.
Sitting down, I took a deep breath, drew back the bow, and tried to play it.
Bad idea.
I get out of the hospital next week.

Pray For A Bicycle

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When Tommy was little, he wanted a bicycle.
His parents couldn’t afford one, though.
So he prayed for it.
He’d dream of that bicycle every night, but it was never there when he woke up.
The kid across the street had one. A nice, shiny red bicycle. With a thumb-bell, too!
Tommy was jealous, and he wished that kid would die so he could get it in a garage sale.
Sure enough, the kid was out riding the bike and a dump truck hit him, killing him dead.
Sadly, the bike was crushed.
He bought the thumb-bell for 25 cents.

Dolls

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When Lisa was a little girl, she loved to play with dolls.
But instead of dressing them up for fashion shows, she commanded them to attend tea parties.
Not invited… commanded.
She eventually grew out of playing with dolls, graduating to commanding friends and coworkers around.
It was much more fun commanding them around. After all, humans can feel, worry, think, and fear. Dolls can’t.
One day, she looked around to find herself alone at her tea party of a life, abandoned and lonely.
Still, what a pretty dress she had on. Such a lovely hat, too.
More tea, dear?

You wimp!

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There’s no shame in losing.
You know you’ve tried your best, but it just wasn’t good enough.
However, there is shame in losing to a little girl.
Especially when it’s a little girl in a pink frilly dress and a sailor’s cap.
Sure, you can claim that she only dresses that way to throw off her opponents, but that’s what you said about the guy in the wheelchair, too.
The man had to speak out commands to roll his motorized chair to get his foot to kick your ass, for crying out loud.
Oh, please.
Stop crying already.
You… wimp.

Gun Safety Lesson

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Once upon a time, there was a little boy with a very large gun.
His father always kept it in the nightstand, and it didn’t have a child safety lock.
The boy knew the gun was in there unlocked. So, standing on his very tippy toes, reaching, he got it out.
Looking over the gun, he checked to see if it was loaded.
Sure enough, it was.
And it was in his hands.
So, the little boy took the child safety lock out of the shopping bag and locked it up.
But he forgot to give his father the key.

Sulfur Neutral

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Grampa drove a really big Cadillac that got lousy gas mileage.
He’d owned it for as long as I could remember, and the cloud of smoke following us grew larger year after year.
“Why don’t you drive something friendlier to the environment?” I asked him.
“What?” he replied. “What is this environmental friendly crap?”
“Don’t you want to conserve energy and save the planet?” I said. “Or do you buy Carbon Neutral Offsets?”
Grampa thought for a moment. “No, I buy… um… Sulfur Neutrals.”
“Sulfur Neutrals?” I asked. “What are those?”
“Pull my finger,” said Grampa. “And you’ll find out.”

Swing Hard!

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The Presidential Mansion has a birthday party every week, it seems. So many children, grandchildren, cousins, close family friends…
Every birthday party has jugglers, magicians, and marvelous decorations you’d expect from the First Citizen Of All.
But it wouldn’t be complete without the clown.
He stands there, terrified.
“Make me laugh,” commands El Presidente.
The clown falls to his knees, begging for mercy.
“I said make me laugh. Now.”
The clown gets up and tries a little soft-shoe.
El Presidente snaps his fingers, and the clown is strung up along with the piñatas.
Here’s the stick, Paco. Now swing hard!

Straps

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When I was young, my family would go to the Museum of Science and Industry in Chicago.
Back then, there was an exhibit demonstrating bell curve distributions using back balls falling through a maze of pegs and into slotted compartments.
The balls eventually formed the bell curve shape… as if by magic.
“Not magic, you little weirdo,” growled my father. “It’s mathematics.”
I pointed at the lonely ball in the two-sigma slot: “That’s me!”
My parents were shocked, and they recoiled in horror from me.
Why?
Because I’d managed to chew through my straps and my hands were free again.

Labor Pains

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We checked the nanny’s references. Even did a Google search
She came up clean, but it turned out she was batshit crazy.
A month later, we were sitting down to a candlelight dinner at Rico’s when my cell rang.
It was a neighbor calling about the noise.
We got home just in time to stop the psycho bitch from cutting off another of our baby’s toes.
“They grow back,” the nanny shrieked. “Like a starfish!”
No, they don’t.
Two grew back. Like The Lernaean Hydra.
I flipped a coin, and my wife lost.
She cuts, and I’ll burn the stump.

Commando

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A ghost ate my underwear.
That’s right. A ghost ate my underwear.
I cannot imagine my underwear being appetizing to any living or nonliving creature, but I woke up to the sight of a spectral entity eating my underwear.
I was too tired to be scared, so I just came out with it: “Why are you’re eating my underwear?”
“I don’t know,” said the ghost. “Got any more?”
I wanted to ask the ghost what the Afterlife was like, but he finished the last of my boxers and vanished.
So, can you exorcise my underwear drawer for me, Father O’Malley?