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First Aid

September 11, 2012

Our scene is a tranquil early fall evening in the city. Mommy sits downstairs in her basement office resting after a long day, laptop open, trashy yet enjoyable TV playing in the background. A high-pitched sound is heard, first faintly, then growing louder.

Bobo: MOOOMMMY!!!!!

Not being born yesterday, mommy decides to wait this out for a minute. But the sound continues, swelling in intensity and urgency. She wrinkles her brow and mutes the television.

Bobo: MOOMMEEEEEEE!!!! HEEEEELLP!!!!!!! AUUUGH! I NEED YOU!!!!!!!! I NEED YOUR HELP!!!!!

Mommy swings into action, her mind racing, trying to think of what he could have possibly gotten into. Was it something sharp?? Something hot?? An intruder?? As she runs up the stairs, she mentally locates the first aid kit and grabs her cell phone as she dashes through the kitchen in case an emergency call needs to be made. She bursts into the living room to find Bobo, snuggled in a blanket and watching a show on the iPad.

Bobo: Good, you’re here. Can you make me another grilled cheese?

Hearing no reply, Bobo looks up. He pauses, allowing himself to absorb the expression on Mommy’s face.

Bobo (slowly): Oh….nuts. Sorry. Sorry….

Curtain.

 

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One Comment
  1. Nikki permalink

    This is hysterical and all too often my signature response at home!

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