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The Origin of Ankle Biters

By Kelly Van Booven All Rights Reserved ©

Humor

The Origin of Ankle Biters

There is a time in every girl’s life when they look up in an isle at Target and sees the cutest little munchkin ever smiling away from the cart seat. Then they want a baby. Then she drives across the road to Wal-Mart and will be walking down some isle and run into the ugliest little slobber-monster ever! Its ears are too big, there are boogers hanging off its chin, it is crying, it is to fat, or some other thing that makes you just want to throw it in a river. I guess that proves that Target has cuter stuff all around.

This has happened to me often. I will be sitting in my room watching TV and all of a sudden there is a really cute ankle biter on TV, so I, “awww” like a normal girl and go looking for any guy to knock me up. I change the channel shortly after to Animal Planet and change my mind; babies stink, they have diapers, and they cry. I want a baby monkey.

My friends are not nearly as sensible as me. They will be in my room watching TV and all of a sudden there is a little monster running across the screen in diapers smiling away because they are too dumb to know the horrors of the world. Just as a side note for all them smiling poop dispensers, kittens become cats, cats get old, and then they die. There you go; not smiling anymore are you, kid?

Where is this all going? I have no idea, to tell you the truth. I am just rambling. Actually, I was going to tell you a story. My friend (we will call her Ballison so no one knows who she is), and I were at a hockey game, like normal, and were cheering at the pansies and making fun of the other teams’ hair, big butts, last names, ass pads -whatever we felt like making fun of that day. We were just sitting there; minding our own business, when out of nowhere a little ankle-biter comes up and starts climbing the benches near me. He was cute, in a baby sort of way. I would peg him at a year and a half, but you never know now a days, people are always going for that youthful look. The kid could have been five with a good plastic surgeon. I tried to keep Ballison’s mind on the game so she did not go into one of her baby tangents, but I failed. I fail a lot.

She awed and immediately turned to the closest boy and asked him to knock her up while her boyfriend was beating the crap out of some poor kid on the ice. I restrained her, telling her I would buy her a puppy if she would calm down. She did. Puppies are way better then slobber-monsters.

She then turned to me and, in her own eighteen year old innocent way and asked me, “Kelly where do babies come from?”

I thought about it for a moment and decided she was old enough to hear the truth. It was about time she forgot the myth of penises. “Well Bal,” I turned to her, sipping on my extremely hot cocoa, burning my tongue, “When you become a woman you get a special visit for a very special person.”

“The tooth faerie, Santa Clause?”

“No, shut up. The first time it is startling, but at night a gardener comes to you (mine is named Frank). Well Frank came to me with a very special gift, it was a small garden. In this garden were very special seeds. These special seeds are called baby seeds or oocyte plantis, - that is the scientific name.”

“Really?” she asked, her big, dumb eyes wide.

“Yes.”

“Then what happens?” She was so naive.

“Then Frank told me how to make the plants grow. Each man has a special watering can. Only these watering cans can make the baby plant grow. After finding a man to water your baby seeds you must help him out. The watering can is very special and needs special attention before it gives out its special baby making water.”

“What kind of attention?”

“We will save that for a later talk. You are not old enough yet,” I patted her head gently.

“Oh. Then what happens?”

“Next the man leaves, most likely forever because men are evil. They watered the seeds. That is all they are really good for.”

“What about screwing in light bulbs?”

“If you ever need a light bulb screwed in, give me a call and I will help you.”

“And what if I need a mayo jar opened?”

“You don’t like mayo.”

“Oh, right.”

“With proper care, the seeds will start to grow.”

“What kind of proper care?”

“They need fertilizer, and sunlight, and more water, but this time normal water.”

“Fertilizer like cow poop?”

“The very same, mix it in with your mashed potatoes. Mash potatoes hide everything including black eyed peas.”

“Ok.”

“Over the next few months the plant continues to grow. You belly has to get bigger to accommodate the plant, that is normal. Finally you have this parasite living inside you, eating the food you consume, drinking all the alcoholic beverages you drink, and taking all the pain killers you pop.”

“Not my pain killers?”

“Yes, even the pain killers. It doesn’t stop till there is nothing left of your body,” her eyes looked like a deer caught in the head lights. “After nines months of destroying you from the inside out - you pop. Your body starts leaking. The monster is ripping your insides apart so it can get out and take over the world. You have to be rushed to the hospital so the doctors can keep it from completely destroying you. After hours and hours of pain the little beast finally pops out. The doctor sees how possessed it is so tries to smack the demon out. The demon cries, trying to stay in. It is this huge battle. Normally, the little parasite takes the cord it hooked up to drain your body of everything and strangles the poor doctor. As soon as they can, the nurses remove it from your side as it turns to kill you next. The nurses administer shot after shot to kill the demon but they are too powerful. They are like basketballs - you can bounce them over and over again and they won’t die till you throw it in a cactus.”

“Why on earth would anyone want to have a baby then?” she asked her hands trembling from fright.

“That is the thing. These monsters release a poison in your body that makes you forget how evil they are so you keep making them over and over again. It is a plot to take over the world.”

“Kelly, I want a puppy.”

“Me too Balllison, me too.”

Write a Review Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks, Kelly Van Booven
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