My Son Ernie
Let me tell you about my son Ernie. He was my second son. He was the most disgusting of all my children. You might think it’s funny, but please try to keep a straight face when you read this story. Maybe my son had a few strange hang ups but you should still respect him. I won’t stand for it if you make fun of him. I hope this story will teach you to be tolerant of others.
Ernie was born in Mexico. His mother’s name was Mintilla. She was half Mexican and half Japanese. I met Mintilla in New York, and we spent a fantastic year together on her houseboat. Although Mintilla was lazy and would never even lift a finger to help clean the boat, she was an M woman and I was in love. Unfortunately, a few months after Ernie was born, Mintilla passed away. We were planning on opening up a Japanese restaurant but after she died all our plans fell through. Instead I ran out of money because of funeral costs and decided to move to Brazil to teach English. I needed a change of pace and a different culture.
In Brazil, I had a hard time getting by at first, but eventually word got around that I was a good teacher and the money started rolling in. Ernie was a quiet baby. He was easy to take care of. In fact, I never had to change his diapers. It didn’t add up. He never seemed to take a shit. But I was too busy teaching to worry about it until one day, when Ernie was about two years old. I was sitting on the toilet, taking a shit, when the phone rang. I quickly wiped my bottom and ran to the living room to answer it. I didn’t have time to flush or wash my hands. I answered the phone. It was one of my students. She wanted to go to a movie. I asked her if I could take a rain check, hung up the phone, and returned to the bathroom. I reached out to flush the toilet and noticed that there wasn’t any shit in the water. There was just toilet paper. I turned around and saw Ernie standing behind me. He smiled and I could see shit on his teeth.
“Mmmm….daddy’s shit good,” said Ernie. I couldn’t believe it. My son had eaten my shit. I thought about all those empty diapers. Ernie had been eating his shit! I blew up. I just couldn’t believe it. I washed out his mouth with soap and spanked him. Ernie didn’t cry. He just looked at me with a puzzled expression on his face.
“Ernie,” I said. “You shouldn’t eat shit. It’s dirty.”
“But shit tastes good,” said Ernie.
“Listen Ernie” I said. “I’m your father. I call the shots. I don’t care if you think it’s good or not. Just don’t eat it anymore, OK?”
“OK daddy,” answered Ernie. “I promise I will be a good boy.” I felt really bad about spanking Ernie. I didn’t believe in corporal punishment, but I had to stop him and make sure he never did it again.
The years passed and I forgot about the shit incident. Ernie was sixteen years old and one day, while I was giving him a lift home from school, we saw a puppy in the street. It looked abandoned. A trigger happy policeman was shooting at it for fun. The puppy was scared and didn’t know what was happening. I stopped the car and talked to the policeman.
“You can’t shoot that puppy,” I said. “It’s cruel.”
“Mind your own business,” said the policeman. I knew I would have to fork out some money if I wanted to save the puppy so I gave the policeman some pesos and winked. The policeman smiled, took the bribe and drove off. I put the puppy in the car. Ernie wanted to keep it but I told him we would just put it up for a few weeks until we could find someone to take care of it. My apartment was too small for a dog and I didn’t want a puppy that wasn’t housebroken shitting all over the carpets.
