Biting The Hand That Feeds You

Joseph is eating his breakfast at the kitchen table and he turns to ask me, "Mom. Does your ring talk?"

"Does my ring talk? What?"

"Yeah, does it do everything you do?"

"What do you mean? Rings cannot talk, Joseph."

"Not ring, BRAIN mom."

"Oh... (Feeling slightly retarded and a little deaf too) Um... Brains don't talk like we do. They....."

Lots of screaming and crying takes place

"What happened?" No answer. "Why are you crying?"

"AHHHHHHHH. SOB. SOB. SCREAM. SOB. SCREAM....."

"Joseph, I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong."

"I... I... *SOB, SCREAM*... I... Bent my thumb."

"How did you bend your thumb, son?

"Not bend, BIT my thumb."

Realizing I might actually need a hearing aid, I ask him, "How did you bite your thumb then?"

He shows me his thumb, which is now dripping quite a bit of blood.

"You bit that good. What were you doing?"

"I was eating my toast." He must have thought he was starving to have bitten it so hard.

Toy Story Band-aid's come out and the tears dry up and he is eating once again, only this time much slower than before.

"Mom, I think my thumb has a broken heart now."

"Thumbs don't have hearts."

"But I feel it's heart beat in there."

I love him.