My exciting entry includes some vocabulary lessons, secrets
of child discipline and a story that will make your heart melt like a Popsicle
in a fat guy’s armpit on a really hot day.
Some of you may not know what the word “Tonsure” means and
that is completely normal since you aren't as smart as me. For those of you who do know what it means,
just keep it to yourself and don’t spoil it for the others.
If you find yourself on a crowded bus, subway or are just
hanging out at Chuck e Cheese for the mozza sticks and you encounter a child
misbehaving, your first instinct may be to violently shake them and yell as
loud as you can into their stupid faces.
But that’s where you would be wrong and should be locked up for even
thinking that. Your second instinct may
be to spit on them. But apparently that’s
frowned upon as well. So what can you,
as a concerned and well-meaning citizen do to stop these little creeps from
acting out?
I always carry some Hubba Bubba bubble gum for occasions
such as the one I just described. What
I do is, I pop a piece of gum into my mouth and get it all chewy and gooey,
then I blow a decent sized bubble.
Then, I carefully remove the gum from my mouth and quickly make sure the
kid’s mom doesn't notice; I then place it in the kid’s hair. Since the mom can’t comb it out without
yanking the kid’s hair out, she will be forced to cut the offending gum out,
leaving the kid with a nice round bald spot.
The goal is not to inflict pain on the child, but rather to cause public
humiliation by making him look like a tiny tonsured monk. That way, he’s learned his lesson about
acting out.
Before you draw the wrong conclusion in thinking that I’m
mean to kids, here’s a heartwarming story so emotionally riveting that all
other heartwarming stories pale in comparison.
This story is so mushy that you’ll basically shun all other stories and
maybe even want to spit on that kid who had to shoot Old Yeller because his
story just doesn’t measure up to this one.
So one day this little kid came to the door with a picture
of his dog, asking if I had seen him because he had run away. I wanted to make him feel better so I said,
“Maybe it’s for the best. He probably
ran away because he doesn’t like you.
Maybe he’s off finding a much better kid to hang out with, doesn’t that
make you happy? Knowing that your dog is
trying to better himself?”
But the kid totally missed my point and got pretty upset. He
said, “Scrappy loves me! Scrappy is the
best dog in the world!”
I was shocked! I said, “The best dog in the world you say? If that’s true, then whoever finds Scrappy
will just keep him. I mean, who wouldn’t
want to own the best dog in the world?
You can forget about seeing Scrappy again but don’t worry; the best dog
in the world is going to be treated like a king!”
The ungrateful kid started to cry but just then a neighbor
came up the street with the dog saying, “I found Scrappy!” I turned to the kid and said with narrowed
eyes, “Best dog in the world huh?
Obviously that was a big fat lie.”
OK, now that I’ve thought about it, maybe that story isn’t that
moving after all. So a kid lost a dog
and he’s all sad and stuff but then the dog is found and everything is right
with the world. But let me see if I can
juice that story up a bit by adding that the kid was in a wheelchair because he
had some kind of disease and his parents, who weren’t the brightest people
ever, couldn’t afford the operation to make the kid walk again because they
lost all their money in a pyramid scheme that a 9 year old could tell was a
scam.
But lo, Scrappy wasn’t just a normal dog, oh no siree
bob! Scrappy could talk! Scrappy was what the scientists call, a “magic
dog” and what’s more, he could even predict the outcome of certain sporting
events. Obviously he gave that kid some
good tips and after a few well placed bets, that kid had enough money to get
that operation. So how’s that for a
story? Talk about heartwarming!
Anyway, that’s that.
ton·sure
noun \ˈtän(t)-shər\
: a round, shaved area on the top of a priest's or monk's
head
