Riffing on “Echoes” as a prompt, I composed this short, short story. I got the idea for it from an anecdote I heard years ago.
Little Pitchers, Big Ears, and All That
Mark hears Amy and little Timmy come in from the garage.
“How did Timmy do in preschool today?”
“The teachers told me he did just fine. But you and I need talk about something else.”
“What do you mean? Is it about Timmy?”
“Indeed it is.”
“Something serious?”
“Well, let’s just talk and you can decide for yourself.”
“What’s going on?”
“When I picked up Timmy from preschool, I buckled him into his car seat next to me on the passenger side. On the way home, a car suddenly pulled out right in front of us, and I had to slam on the brakes.”
“Did you hit the car?”
“No, but it was a near thing. That is not what I want to talk with you about, though.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, when I hit the brakes and our car skidded to a stop, Timmy said in a loud voice, ‘Goddamned women drivers.’ Where do you suppose he learned that?”
“Uh. Hmm. Maybe from one of the preschool teachers?”
“Something tells me, he heard it from someone else.”
“I didn’t know you ever used that phrase.”
“I haven’t, Mark. Never. Stop BS-ing me. You know where he heard it.”
“Well, there is a chance, a small chance, that I might have said something like that once.”
“Yeah, right. Once, huh? For a kid of three, he sure enunciated it clearly to have heard it only once.”
“Well, Timmy’s a bright little kid, smart like his dad. And verbal, too. He is like an echo machine. He hears something once, and it bounces back.”
“Well, I don’t want him swearing like a sailor, particularly something as outrageous as what I heard on the way home just now.”
“Sweetie, it was just a slip of the tongue. I’m sure it was a one-time thing, probably my reaction to a near accident like you had just now. I promise it won’t happen again.”
Just then Timmy walks in, pulling his rolling dog toy, saying to it, “Come on, you son of a bitch! Get your ass in gear!”