"S, T, W, W"
"Son, what are you doin'?", the man inquired; as the little boy across from him at the diner table bowed his head as far down as to dip his nose in the ketchup splattered on his hot dog extracting a small drop, now perched between his nostrils.
"Praying," he stated. "Grace, mummy calls it."
"Oh, Christ, has your mum started goin to church again?"
"Yep. Every Sunday. "snot enough, but it's all she can afford with the "mount of time God has given her. He understands."
"She must be fucking again," the dad muttered, "got the guilts."
The son's plump unscathed hands bumped his chest, then his nose, right shoulder, left shoulder, unsurely.
"Well, if you're gonna do it, do it right. Look, capturing the awing blue eyes of the boy, "me dad" when he would take me, would tell it to me like dis:
The ever puzzling look began to devour the child's face. With an exhausted sigh and a roll of the eyes, the father divulged further; as he himself motioned:
"Spectacles" like you're wearing glasses.
"Testicles" like we talked "bout.
"Wallet" as if it were in your coat pocket.
"Watch" well, just remember da one you aven't done yet."
Just then the father noticed a wrinkled nose protruding from a reflection in the silver napkin holder. Alarmed, he scanned to his left to uncover the source ofthis hideous intrusion.
"I think that's awful!" proclaimed the looming elderly owman about drool in his untouched plate.
"What??" croaked the father, inheriting the same confused look his son had previously adorned.
"Referring to the Cross as"as..your"your privates (that terrible word was whispered). That's sacrilege!" wailed the woman.
The father retreated with an even bigger sigh. He slumped into a matter-of-fact disposition as he rolled out his diatribe by rote.
"Ma'am, is it your belief that God created us in his own image?"
"It says so in the good book," she spat out in pure confidence.
"Well, then I must deduce your God's got his own pair. Bigger than these ones, even Now I ask you, are his own body parts sacrilegious"even his (he whispered mockingly) "privates?"
"But, but"," stammered the shocked frail woman.
"And," the ignited father sped past her opportunity to respond, "is it not the same good book of yours earth inhabited by those two poor souls?"
"Yes," the woman spurted out of absolute anxiety.
"Well, being as the Earth's population now approaches 7 billion " I believe God fully understands his own intentions regarding the male testicles."
"Pig!!" exclaimed the woman, followed by every woman's humbled, desperate, final recourse when proven wrong: the slap.
The boy reeled in joy at the sight of this, giggling. The father couldn't help but laugh either.
The boy sat at rigid attention; all signs of elation abandoned.
"Yes, dad," the son spoke hesitantly.
"Now, I don't mind you goin' to church. Respect yer mum's decision. But, do me a favor, ok?"
The boy nodded.
"Keep yer eyes and ears closed."