My grandfather told me a version of this story and I have been lucky to tell my kids (who loved it).<p>Our version:<p>There was once a boy that was born with a golden screw where his belly button should be. This made him very self-conscious about it. The kids at school would tease him about his golden screw and lack of belly button. It was so bad that he didn't want to remove his shirt when swimming.<p>One day his class took a field trip to the beach. The boy didn't want to remove his shirt, so he walked along the beach kicking the sand. He was very sad. Suddenly, his foot hurt from kicking something hard in the sand. He looked down and discovered a golden screwdriver.<p>His eyes brightened and he felt this must be some divine intervention. He immediately removed his shirt, grabbed the golden screwdriver and began to carefully unscrew the golden screw. This was the moment. He unscrewed it and finally this golden screw that had cursed him his whole life came out <dramatic pause> then his butt fell off.<p><cue 6 year old laughing>
This reminds me of Patrick Rothfuss' The Wise Man's Fear... seems that his dad told him a similar story :-)<p>> “Once upon a time,” I began. “There was a little boy born in a little town. He was perfect, or so his mother thought. But one thing was different about him. He had a gold screw in his belly button. Just the head of it peeping out.
One of my dad's favorite stories:<p>Once upon a time, all the dogs went to a big party. But because dog butts are smelly, they were required to remove them at the entrance and hang them up on the wall. Halfway through the party a sneaky cat pulled the fire alarm so all the dogs just grabbed whatever butt they could find, attached it, and ran out. Ever since then they've been smelling each other's butts so that they can try find their own.<p>We had a family dog whose butt/tail was a different color than his body, so of course this story just made perfect sense to us.
Unrelated, I fat fingered on a link without noticing. I was confused as to why the content I'm reading is completely unrelated to what I read 30s before.<p>This website is fast.
Nice writing. Made me feel warm remembering a few people with similar persona from my childhood days. I feel there were a lot of people with similar persona in my dad's generation. Ubiquitous connectivity via Mobile/Internet and how much our cities/towns have changed makes it difficult for this persona to exist today.
I hope my dad is partying with yours in the ahem great-ISO-9000-in-the-sky.
They would enjoy each other's company. And I would enjoy his, would give anything for 10. more. minutes.
> Maureen must have been skeptical, but Mum immediately backed up Dad’s story.<p>The author’s mom also sounds pretty cool.<p>Having a significant other who is on the same wavelength as you as who is your partner even in silly stuff is one of the underrated blessings in life.
I used pincers and fished out <i>massive</i> piece of navel lint the other day. It was quite solid. And there was white strands growing from it, somekind of mildew.<p>I was aware of danger of scratching yores navel, so I doused the area with Alcool and Betadine.
Loved reading it. Fantastic piece. That writing got very close to me, watery eyes and so and I also read it from my perspective of being a dad of a small child right now.
> This, along with the “lying still game” and many other “games” ensured hours of peace and quiet for adults trying to<p>It’s funny how fathering is about using a thousand tricks to make kids go through life even when they don’t want. And another part is politeness rules teach kids to be convenient for the parents, for example “don’t play with food, there’s kids in Africa” was never about African kids and more about cleaning up the floor.<p>Whenever I cried, my father would say “Don’t put your mouth in W”. How can you not laugh at that. We’ll it doesn’t teach to negotiate, I don’t remember my parents bending for anything, they’d use gimmicks to get out of the situation. If it’s not good to let kids get spoilt, bending from time to time teaches them how to use a little seduction to ask for things.<p>I also remember my father coming back from a disabled-school visit, and he’d tell me that a kid taught him in sign language “I - love - working”, and that’s the most beautiful thing he had ever heard. Or seen.<p>So that’s it, I don’t know how to complain properly, don’t know how to seduce, and I work all the time. I became deadweight for my parents at 40, since I’m single, millionaire and incel, but at least they had nothing to worry concerning impregnating women, doing drugs or not working enough.