A Cautionary Tale
- anya
- Jan 30, 2021
- 2 min read
It started with a book. Said title has slid from memory but is of no particular importance.
It started with a book borrowed. Off the neighbors’ bookshelf. The next-door-over neighbors.
It started with a book borrowed from the bedroom of a pair of younger brothers. All the good stories in our lives start with siblings, no?
Young neighbors were aged roughly two and four years. Borrower about seven or eight. All three parties concerned had taken themselves off to bed. The latter had just finished reading and was thoughtful enough to return the book before hitting the hay…
…But was also devious enough to consider returning it with mal-intent. Neighbors weren’t asleep yet, after all. Wouldn’t it be fun to…? But no. Cost benefit analysis prevailed and the borrower concluded that a moment of hilarious fright did not outweigh the retribution of the other neighbors. Roommate probably would have agreed on both counts had he been aware of the plotting below. Fun but not quite worth it.
So malice-aforethought laid aside, she slipped out of bed to return the book. And had a quick turnaround heart-change in the process. Wouldn’t it be kind of her to quietly creep in and lay the book by the foot of the four-year-old’s bed undetected? Best not to bother them.
On all fours, she peeped through the open door. Bed immediately to the left. Crib towards the back corner of the room. Just a few shuffles to get close enough…
“Monter,” two-year old lisps, gesturing towards the shadow cast on the door. Four year old sits up in bed. Blood-curdling scream ensues. Because why not? Normally there’s not a terrifying apparition actually there when little folk cry, “monster!”
Living daylights scared out of all parties. Other neighbors came running. Borrower fortunately got off scot-free because once she was in the neighbors’ room, the scheme of the previous few minutes had been discarded and was not being enacted.
Moral of the tale being: why do today what you can do tomorrow? At least when it comes to returning books in the dead of night. Or 8pm as the case may have been.
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Next question: what's a misconception you had about life as a child? I'd love to hear from you!
And if you'd still like to tell a story, any at all, from your childhood, drop it in the form below. This, of course, was a light, humorous account, but you're welcome to share anything you like. Could be a single sentence. It's fascinating to see what stands out to people, no matter how long it's been.
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