Image by ElasticComputeFarm from Pixabay
“So, wait a minute … you mean to tell me the veterinarians are still open and giving dogs shots for rabies, but they don't have a hospital open to give shots for Covid? I mean, what are we doing out here?”
This was eleven-year-old Velma Trent, asking hard questions.
Her baby sister eight-year-old Gracie had interesting answers.
“Well, you know, there are people who care more about their dogs than they do about people, she said. “People know their dogs, but they don't know everybody.”
“You know, that does make sense,” Velma said, “but I thought adults were supposed to think bigger than kids though.”
Gracie shook her head.
“Who told you that, though?” she said. “You can't believe everything you read, you know.”
“But I thought the fiction and the non-fiction – the true stuff and the not true stuff – was supposed to be clearly marked!”
“Now you know there are people who don't know the difference. You know how folks don't stop at the stop sign?”
“Gosh, there are a lot of those,” Velma said.
“The truth is right there – STOP. Folks just driving through on a lie – remember that day the car didn't stop and the big 18-wheeler was coming through?”
“Oh, Lord, I still pray about that situation,” Velma said, “because you figure that man doesn't have another back end to lose. Had a whole car when he entered the intersection, had half a car when he left it. It's a good thing he was thrown clear through the windshield into the bushes, because campfires are no good when you are in them.”
“Ain't it the truth,” Gracie said. “We may be brown, but we're not trying to get looking like a well-cooked marshmallow. Chocolate and graham crackers don't go in the fire!”
“Actually, human marshmallows shouldn't either,” Velma said, “which is why God had him thrown clear.”
“But guess what?” Gracie said. “Remember how he's a redhead?”
“Yes.”
“So, when Dad and I were walking over to take some soda samples to the Miyamotos this morning, guess who ran the stop sign and nearly hit us?”
“The same man?”
“Yep. New car, same stupid.”
“I guess all adults really don't have it together then.”
“No, they don't, but, that just means that we need to just figure out how to be like the adults we're with, and we'll be fine. Dad and Mom stop at all the stop signs, and so do our grandparents.”
“That's a relief. They need to get Mr. Redhead off the road before he loses his front and his back ends.”
“Ain't it the truth, Velma – but Dad called the license plate number in, so, it should be cool.”