All I Want for Christmas

Ian and Miguel (names are always changed to protect the innocent), a pair of first grade boys, shuffled into my office today. Ian in obvious pain was bent at the waste holding his knee while Miguel tried his best to support his hunched over friend.

“Nurfe Ehop, Nurfe Ehop,” Miguel exclaimed as he sidled by me and dumped Ian sans ceremony half on the nearest cot and half on the floor. “Ian is hurf.”

“Let’s take a look,” I said as I rearranged Ian more comfortably. “What happened to your knee Ian?”

“I have a boo boo, I tripped on a lod at nite,” said Ian.

Miguel jumped in and tried to explain what happened. “We do campf , we’re tiger scoufs, we was in the dark wif flashlights and he fell.”

I could barely understand anything Miguel said because he had so many front teeth missing! “Miguel,” I asked, “what happened to all your front teeth?”

“They came ouf,” he said. “One came ouf wif a toofbrush and two came ouf when I fell.” “Oh yea,” he added, “my teafer took one ouf and my Mom took one ouf.”

“My, you lost a lot of teeth,” I said doing my best to suppress the smile that threatened my professional demeanor.

“Yea,” he continued, “buf two are growing back, buf more haf to come ouf fer Christmaf.”

“Why?” I asked.

“They’re no good,” he replied. “I hope I kin grow more cause I can’t eat my candy to good thif way and my Mom said she mighf haf to buy me baby food.” “What does thaf mean Nurfe Ehop!!??”

I love my job.