Sassafras

[dropcap]W[/dropcap]e were eating at the Donut Hole, the little girl in the booth behind us was smitten with me. She couldn’t stop asking things like, “Is that your real nose? It looks fake,” or “Why’re you eating french fries, don’t you know they’re high in Klomessterol?”

Jamie assured me that my nose did indeed look authentic – which it most certainly is. I tried to ignore the little girl, but that only made things worse. So, I did my best to answer the little towhead in short, snappy sentences.

“Roses are red,” she said, “violets are blue, God made me pretty, what happened to you?”

“You know kid, I wouldn’t recommend playing hide and seek, I’m not sure anyone would look for you.”

Jamie elbowed me.

In an attempt to end the heated conversation, I pointed to the little girl’s Disney princess T-shirt.

“Is that Sleeping Beauty?”

“Noooo.”

She was all sass.

“Is it the Little Mermaid?”

“Nope, get it together fat-face.”

“Snow White?”

“Duh.”

Duh? I had no idea kids still used that word, I thought it went out of style with wing-tipped shoes, and Gramophones.

“Snow White’s the bestest,” the little girl said. “She’s the most beautifulest of all the princessesessess in the whole wide world.”

I got real quiet, “Well, it’s a shame about her friends.”

“What about them?”

“Oh nothing, except, Sixty Minutes did a story on them and discovered that six out of seven dwarves are not Happy.”

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