Dad's Melodious Boy Mystery Cache

“I won’t tell you to stay” she said to her youngest, Johnny, now five and exercising his independence. With overstuffed backpack slung across his shoulders, favorite teddy bear peeking out of the top, he marched down the stairs with the authority of a wartime general and right out the front door. Trying desperately to hold back the laughter as she watched, she turned to her husband and asked, “Do you think I’ve gone too far?” This was not the first time Johnny protested one or more food items on his dinner plate, or the mother of all egregious atrocities—two different foods touching one another. But his protestations were becoming more dramatic, and for his parents and neighbors—amusing.

You see, tonight mom told Johnny he had to finish his cornbread but apparently Johnny had other plans—plans that did not include cornbread. Hence, the journey across the cul-de-sac to the neighbor’s house. Dad knew Johnny would be well cared for at the neighbor’s, as he had been before, and turned his attention to consoling mom. He grabbed their wine glasses from the dinner table, headed for the deck and suggested, “maybe some moonlight?” Just as he raised his glass to toast, “celebrate we will…” the phone rang. It was the neighbor reporting Johnny’s safe arrival and inquiring as to this most recent offense.

As the neighbor hung up the phone, she sat Johnny down at the kitchen table and offered him a snack. In front of him she placed a plate of yellow cake-like goodness. Johnny looked up at her, a little tear forming in his eye. She bent down and whispered to him, “but you ain’t ever had my cornbread.” More tears formed, and then trickled down Johnny’s face. She put her arm around Johnny, “lean upon me. Cry about it.” It was clear Johnny needed to go home. She grabbed his backpack and walked him back to his house.

When mom answered the door, Johnny was still fighting back the tears but managed to mutter, “I’ve got this growl in my tummy.” Mom smiled, thanked the neighbor and told Johnny to go wash his hands before he could have a snack. “I won’t wash my hands!” he yelled as the tears returned. She took his backpack, grabbed his hand and walked him to the bathroom. As she passed her husband she whispered, “so much we take for granted.” As Johnny washed his hands mom asked him why he left without eating dinner and went to the neighbor’s house. “Cause it makes me mad” he said, still sniffling.

Mom made Johnny his favorite snack—apple slices with peanut butter. She hoped her little guy might finally cheer up a bit, just in time to go to bed. As he sat there eating, the tears finally began drying. Happy it was working, she made her way to the door and motioned to her husband, “come and see.” He was thrilled to see a relatively happy, and eating, Johnny.

Dad took Johnny to bed while mom cleaned the kitchen. Instead of a bedtime story, Johnny wanted to show dad a new song he made up:

“Take a little ride
I wanna fill my belly
Too many choices
I hope you’ll be by me then”

Johnny grinned, ever so proud of himself. Dad smiled, tucked him in, kissed him goodnight and walked to the door. He found mom holding back the laughter, shaking her head, “Crazy is all right.”