The Fibber

 

Big eyes of delight from such a little guy.

I’ll have two of those he tells the shop

owner. Oh, and three of those. How

much for a roll of those? Three inches,

please. 4 gum balls, red, yellow, green

and blue. A Three Musketeers and

5 black licorice sticks, please.

Oh, all that sweetness of delight for a

quarter’s change from the dollar his

mother had sent with him to buy a loaf

of bread and some butter from the corner

grocery store.

Now you be sure and bring me back

the change, she told him sternly,

waving her finger in his face.

When he got home, he hoped mother

would forget to ask for her change.

But no, mothers always remember

such things, especially where money

was concerned.

I had to give it to Frankie, that bully

up the street, the sneaky, little, two-bit

fibber told his mother.

What’s that you’ve got rolling around

in your mouth, she asked him? Don’t

you fib to me. That wasn’t too bad.

He figured he wasn’t old enough yet

to be known as a thief and a full-blown

liar.

Those were the days when you sure

could get a lot candy for a quarter.

Oh the temptation. What was a little

kid supposed to do?

Besides, Frankie was a heck of a lot

bigger than me, he explained. But he

did share some of his candy with me.

And at least I got home with the

bread and butter okay.

                           -30-

Chris Hanch 10-29-2021