Wednesday, January 28, 2009

Zoopy


Sometimes a name from the past just pops into your mind for no reason what-so-ever.

Zoopy.
Odd name for an odd little fellow.

He was the little kid that lived next door to us in our suburban home~when I was a child. He used to wander over once in a while through the gap in the bushes that separated our rental place from his.

If memory serves me right he may have been the first 'southerner' I'd met.
Zoopy was hugely fat for a little boy. Mom attributed it to a poor diet of soda, chips, junk food, and little exercise. Those items were a rarity in our house so we were somewhat fascinated by Zoopy.

He was a little boy who couldn't run because his pants [always not sized for a kid] would fall down~he was a little boy who spoke with a funny accent, had flushed pink cheeks, and squinted through the extra skin around his eyes.

I'll never forget that day he came through the bushes --he was out of breath, his cheeks burned bright red in anger and frustration. He stomped up to our door where my mom met him.

Zoopy was always very polite, he asked for some advice from mom.

'My sister done made me mad,' Zoopy said, 'She's too big to fight but I sure enough would like to get even with her.'

My mom is a born prankster, always looking for a little harmless fun.
She leaned down and thoughtfully said to Zoopy.

'Well, get some Chicken Poop and chew it up real good,' she paused for effect, 'then spit it on her shoes.'

A broad smile crossed Zoopy's face. He thanked my mom, then turned and hiked up his pants as he hurried back through the gap in the bushes.

A couple of hours later he came back, a troubled look on his face.

'Ma'am,' he said to my mom, his hands in his pockets, 'I surely thought this was a good idea and it would make my sis madder than ever. But where can I find some Chicken Poop?'

True story.

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