Sunday, April 16, 2006

The only time


I was a little boy of about four. My father took me out on the front porch. He gave me a little paper cup. He had a bottle of Coke. He poured a little Coke into the small cup. He told me I could ask him for more any time I wanted, and he would give it to me. He drank from the bottle. I drank from the cup. Mine was gone. I asked for more. He gave me some. I drank it and asked for more. He told me to slow down. I waited a little while and asked for more. He gave me some. I drank it and asked for more. He began to admonish me. I was upset. The Coke was so sweet and so good and I was little. I wanted more! I wanted more! He glared at me and lectured me. Then I waited a very long, long time. Or what must have seemed to a small boy to be a very long, long time, and I asked for more. "No!" he barked, and finished the bottle.

That was the only time we ever did that.
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