I wish I could take credit for the dad in this story but unfortunately the honest man in the mirror gave me THAT look, so my hero complex lost the battle…
A bunch of 11 year-old girls was standing in a group consoling a crying friend. The little girl was sobbing and through tears and snot she tried her best to tell all her friends about the reason for her sadness. Turns out, a coach, who I like to call Miss I-am-still-young-therefore-stupid, gave the little girl an earful for missing a practise and threatened to remove her from the team if it should happen again. (Remember when we still cried about trivial things like this? )
The teacher obviously ignored the reasons given by the player for not attending the specific practise because she hasn’t been gettin’ any for the last six months. That or she was possessed by the monthly demon that sometimes take over the female body. Whatever the reason was, she was being a real bitch.
And all the girls agreed, standing in that close circle, girl-powering their way through the sorrow of their friend. Eventually one girl voiced the opinion of the group and said, a little too loud: “That teacher is a real turd.” (I must admit I couldn’t have said it better.)
Unfortunately for them, two boys were doing what boys do so well, they were eavesdropping on the conversation. Once that insult was thrown into the air, the boys stepped up, like two little godfather-wannabees.
The comforting noise in the group gave way to a very uncomfortable silence.
“You didn’t.” Said the girl with the load voice, embellished with a little bit of worry.
“Yes we did. You called the teacher a turd, and we are going to tell.”
“No you won’t.” Her voice was edgy, and the group mumbled in the back nervously.
“Yes we will,” with way to much confidence and an assertiveness for an 11 year old boy.
A storm loomed and an anxious cloud settled above the group of girls, drops of panic started to rain down on them. The boys stood there, glistening in their perceived victory, whilst horns grew out of there foreheads. Their eyes shone bright red.
“No, you can’t. We will all be in trouble. And besides you don’t know the whole story.”
“We don’t care. We are going to tell… Unless…”
“Unless what?” barked the girl.
“Unless you bring us something.” (Yes I shared your amazement! Blackmail is also frowned upon in our country. At this point I was wondering who their parents was. Hitler and Cruella De Vil?)
“What do you mean?” The girls was pulled into their devious plan, and was desperately looking for a way out.
“If you bring us chocolate tomorrow then we won’t tell.” And with that, the two devils walked away leaving dread and despair behind them. Then the bell rang.
A few parents spend that evening comforting girls. Also trying to teach lessons about respect towards teachers and adults, watching what you say and not too worry as the boys were only joking. As normal parents, most of us believe that evil doesn’t take over the bodies of young children, but after watching the Exorcist, I should have known better.
The next morning a few of the girls got together quickly and chatted about the events of the previous day. Low and behold the two Al Capone’s rocked up with a swag and a cockyness that I would have kicked across the playground. They asked:
“Where is our chocolate?”
“What chocolate?” The girls got their confidence back after speaking to their parents.
“The chocolate we want or else we will tell on you, today.”
One girl stepped out of the circle, walked two steps, pointed at the devils and said, loudly: “Dad it’s these two.”
The boys followed the pointed finger along her arm, through her shoulder and looked up at the direction to where the girl was looking. It formed a direct line from them to a very mean looking adult, leaning against a pillar 12 feet away. This dad didn’t look like a normal dad, he looked more like Mr. Dad. A bushy beard, shorts, boots, wide shoulders, strong arms which he had folded against his broad chest. His friendly expression replaced with one that said “If-you-want-to-blackmail-my-daughter-I-will beat-the shit-out-of-both-of-you-and-your-fathers.”
The two boys realising their mistake, turned around and ran. They ran so fast that they disappeared from present tense and was only seen again the next day, once time caught up with them. The girl ran to her father a gave him a big hug and the rest of the girls skipped happily to their class room. Proud and happy dad went to work with a huge smile on his face that he couldn’t get rid of for the next week.
End of this true story.