The Required Amount at the Prescribed Rate (Handcrafted From the Finest Corinthian Leather)
Boot Tasting
As I was getting home from work last week, I caught the tail end of a message from the school nurse . . . something about my son Ian being bitten in school, and so I picked up the phone and the nurse told me what happened: my son Ian had gotten into a scuffle with another student and that student bit Ian on the foot . . . but Ian was wearing a rubber rain boot . . . so there was no harm done, either to my son's foot or his rain boot, but there must be some law where the school has to call if a child is bitten or something . . . and perhaps Ian has a little crush on the nurse because he was down there the next day as well because he got hit in the face with a jump rope handle . . . when asked about the boot incident Ian simply said, "he tasted my boot," and that confuses things further . . . is that a euphemism for something else? . . . did the other kindergartener actually want to see what Ian's boot tasted like? . . . and I'm thinking it is best not to think too hard about what goes on in that building.
Flash forward 15 years. At some college on the eastern seaboard, Ian will be a prop leading the college rugby side in a rendition of "I Used to Work in Chicago" when a verse goes awry -- and as he yells at the guilty freshman to "taste the boot," something deep in the recesses of his memory bank will trigger a spark, but the river of Milwaukee's Best flowing through his system ensures that the spark is neither illuminated brightly nor for any duration.
ReplyDeletei almost kept this sentence going until i got to "shooting the boot<' one of my fondest college memories.
ReplyDelete