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A Child's Mind
by Robert Byron
The original reason that I began writing and publishing short stories was so that my son wouldn't have to hear about how weird and strange I am from other people. This way, he can get that information straight from the horse's mouth. However, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, as he has increasingly become the target of many of my stories.
The mind of a child is a complex thing. How it works, I'm not quite sure. My wife wanted our son to pick up his toys and instructed him to, "Make sure you get them all." My kid interpreted this statement as, "We're going to the mall."
"No, I said to pick up them all."
"When are we going to the mall?"
"We aren't going to the mall. Pick up all of your toys."
"We're going to the mall!"
Bill Cosby is right. All children have brain damage. Evidence of this is my son running around the house with a disposable diaper on his head as he yells, "I'm a pirate! I'm a pirate!" I see a four-year-old with a diaper on his head. He sees a pirate. I just don't understand.
It's my job as a parent to help heal my child's brain damage and I must say that I have been somewhat successful. A car cut me off on the highway one afternoon and as I braked to avoid a collision my son yelled as loud as he could at the offending vehicle, "Hey! Watch it pal!"
"My first thought was, "That's my boy!"
He comes up to me and begs for me to tickle him. As soon as I grant his wish, with a fit of giggles he will say, "Stop harassing me!"
The lad has just recently gotten to the point that he no longer cries when getting a haircut. He will let me know this fact when we arrive at the barber shop be saying, "I'm not going to cry Daddy. Don't worry. I'm not going to cry. It wasn't long ago that he would sob during a haircut. It wasn't uncommon for him to jerk his head away from the barber and exclaim, "Knock it off!"
The best times are bedtime when I get to read him stories. Our ritual starts with me saying a prayer followed by his prayers and then stories. Some stories are from books others are made up as we go along. Others are recreations of actual past events as he remembers them and he seems to remember the details better than I do. I'd better get the prayer and/or story right because if I don't, I will be reprimanded without hesitation.
At the end of our nightly routine, I have been known to fall asleep as I gently rub his head. I'm almost always awakened abruptly by a child pushing on my head as he urges, "Daddy! Wake up and go to bed!" I'll get up, tuck him in, then go downstairs and listen to him get out of bed and play.
"Are you sleeping up there?"
"Yes Daddy!"
"Are you harassing me?"
"Yes Daddy!"
"Well, watch it pal!
"Yes Daddy!"
"Knock it off and go to bed!"
"Yes Daddy!"
"I'll turn to my wife and say, "This kid is crazy! Why does he act this way?"
She'll look at me and say, " I'm a pirate and I'm going to the mall."
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What do you call an accordionist with a beeper? An optimist.
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A cop is patrolling just before midnight in a well-known spot. He sees
a couple in a car, with the interior light brightly glowing.
There's a young man behind the wheel reading a computer magazine, and
a young woman in the rear seat, knitting.
Puzzled, the cop walks to the car and raps on the driver's window
The young man lowers his window "Uh, yes, officer?"
"What are you doing?"
"Well, isn't it obvious? I'm reading a magazine. "
Pointing towards the young woman in the back, the cop says: "And her,
what is she doing?"
The young man shrugs: "I believe she's knitting a sweater."
The cop is totally confused -- a young couple, alone in a car, at
night in a lovers' lane, and nothing obscene is happening?
"What's your age, young man?"
"Twenty-five."
"And her -- what's her age?"
The young man looks at his watch and replies: "She'll be eighteen in
eleven minutes."
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"Be careful about reading health books.
You may die of a misprint."
~ Mark Twain
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A panda eats shoots and leaves.
A gangster also eats, shoots, and leaves.
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If you are good, you will be assigned all the work.
If you are REALLY good, you will get out of it.
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Can't Wait
Everyone was seated around the table as the food was being served. When
little Logan received his plate, he started eating right away.
"Logan, wait until we say our prayer," his mother reminded him.
"I don't have to," the little boy replied.
"Of course you do," his mother insisted, "we say a prayer before eating at
our house."
"That's at our house," Logan explained, "but this is Grandma's house and
she knows how to cook."