At dinner the other night, the four year-old asked his father to tell the story of George Washington and the cherry tree, then reciprocated with gruesome alternate history. Here is their story:
Kid: Dad, tell me the story of George Washington and the cherry tree.
DH: One year, for his birthday, George Washington received an axe. And he loved the axe so much that he started chopping down trees. Chop, chop, chop. All over his father's farm. Chop chop chop. Until he chopped down his father's favorite cherry tree.
His father saw that his tree had been chopped down and said, "Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, who chopped down my cherry tree."
Kid: That doesn't rhyme.
DH: My story. "Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, who chopped down my cherry tree." And George Washington thought about lying, but instead he stepped forth and said "Father, I cannot tell a lie. It was me." And the moral of the story is...
Kid: To never chop down the favorite cherry tree if your father is a giant.
DH: Close enough.
Kid: Let me tell you a story now. It's the story of...of...Joff Washington. One year, for his birthday, Joff Washington got an axe for his birthday. A big axe. A REALLY big axe. His father told him not to use it because it was too big and he couldn't use it until he was older.
But Joff tried and tried, and finally lifted it. And then he dropped it on his foot. And cut it off. And there was blood everywhere. Because you shouldn't play with big axes. The End.
Indeed.
*applause applause applause*
ReplyDeleteThe new story is better.
Joff Washington was my childhood hero. I'm glad someone is spreading his story.
And that foot? He later got a wooden one to replace it. It had hidden knife blades that came out of the heel and ball of the foot. It was wicked slick.
Dude, now I want a Joff Washington foot! Or, a "Joff" as they call it down at the weaponized prosthetics shop (it's a kiosk at the mall).
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