Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: AGREE TO DISAGREE (05/04/17)
- TITLE: Ain't Parenting Fun
By Phillip Cimei
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“Dad, they’re at it again,” came a scream from the family snitch.
A disheartened snort separated the cream on my hot chocolate.
“Dad, Billy has Danny in a headlock, and Barry has Billy’s foot in his mouth.”
My wife’s sigh telegraphed, “Ya think you better get a handle on this?”
I sneered before I stuck out my tongue, “You’re a funny gal.”
“Oh, isn’t that mature?”
When I opened the door, Billy had Danny’s face about the color of my wife’s pretty blue bathroom. Barry had a perfect set of teeth marks in Billy’s big toe. “Okay, spill your guts.”
All three sounded like auctioneers trying to out-sell each other on which super hero was the greatest. “Can’t you guys ever agree on anything. Sit down. I am going to tell you a story.”
“Awwwww, not preach’n again.”
“You sit tight and listen. My dad told me an old folk tale many years ago when I was in this same situation. A long time ago three boys about your age, way deep in the darkest part of Africa, sat around a campfire arguing about which cat was the meanest. Their conversation went something like this:”
“Now, da lion, he da meanest cat in da world,” said the first boy.”
“Uh, uh. What makes ya tink dat da lion be da meanest?”
“Well, he da meanest cause he walk around whit his chest puffed out and gives dat big, loud, scary roar. He da king a da jungle. Eberbody scared a da lion.”
“Uh uh,” said the second boy. “Da leopard, he da meanest in da jungle.”
“Whatchu talk’n bout?” said the third boy.
“Uh ha, he got dem spots all ober em. He sneak round in da bushes or up dem trees and before ya knows it, he dun jumped on da prey. Lickety split.”
“Uh, uh,” butts in the third. Da wampus cat, he da meanest cat in da world.”
“Wampus cat. What’s dat?” the first boy asked.
“Ya see now, on one end is da head of da lion, and on da utter is da head of da leopard.”
“No, ya mean to tell me that on one end of da cat is a lion’s head, and on da butt end is da head of a leopard?”
“Den how do it use da batroom?” asked boy two.
“Why da ya tink he so mean?”
Billy, Danny, and Barry just rolled on the floor grabbing their stomachs. One yelled, “I gotta pee.”
“That isn’t the end of the story,” I said. “Those boys thought the wampus cat was funny too, until one jumped right out of the trees behind them. The lion gobbled all three up in a flash and the leopard spit what wasn’t digested right out of his mouth.”
“eeewwww,” they all yelled at once.
“And that is what might happen if you guys keep arguing and can’t find a way to agree civilly. Say you’re sorry to each other and hit the bed.”
“No, but Dad.”
I walked out of there the victor. A silly smirk greeted my wife. She didn’t buy it, “Becky, check on your brothers to see if your father killed them. It is awful quit,” she yelled.
“No, they’re still alive. They are giggling about some stupid story about a wampus cat or something.”
“You didn’t.” my wife said.
“Oooh, yeeaah! Who da man?
The next night, “Ma! Dad! The boys…”
I got “the look” from my wife—along with a wagging head, “How about a nice bible story this time. Maybe Solomon and the two women arguing over whose baby died, or the disciples arguing who was the greatest?”
“Well I thought maybe a follow up with the “wampus Ca…”
Her glaring eyes said it all, “Really?”
“We do have those old lion and leopard costumes in the basement. How long could it take to sew them together?” I said.
Her face relaxed; a devious smirk appeared, “I’ll be the lion’s head. You be the leopard butt. It suites you.”
We burst through their door.
“Aaaaeeeeeeeeee!” they yelled.
“Ain’t parenting fun? you get the hot chocolate,” I said. “I’ll get the quilt.”
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