4th Grade Prayer

I know you’re not supposed to wish for things from God.  We are supposed to pray for things we need, and be thankful for what you’ve been given.  I can’t help myself. I go to bed every night and thank God for my family, ask Him to bring peace on earth, and wrap it all up by asking if He could bless me with a pair of boobs.  It’s not like I’m asking for something that won’t eventually show up.  I just want to catch up with the other girls.

Breanna got boobs last summer. She came back with two orange sized lumps under her shirt, and celebrity status. All the boys want to be her boyfriend. Timmy gives her brownies at lunch every day. Seth does her math homework, and rumor has it, Ben gave her his brand new Nintendo system last week.  I want brownies. I want a Nintendo system. I want a boyfriend. I don’t really like boys, but the trade off of a little hand holding for a Nintendo system is totally worth it. Cooties are an urban legend. And if they aren’t then God would surely spare me the wrath.

The boys that can’t afford to give Breanna stuff try to make her laugh. Joey Fitts can shoot milk out of his nose. He must have practiced to become such a good shot. On his third attempt, he was able to make the milk shoot all the way to the end of the lunch table, and hit Kim Grossner right in the face.  Breanna giggled and bounced with glee as Kim’s tears drifted down the milk spray on her cheeks.  Her laugh made me sick; so high and sharp.  Like a poodle that just got its tail stepped on.

At recess I sat with Sarah, also boobless, and we watched the boys chase Breanna in a never ending game of tag.  She laughed and pranced around.  She seemed to move in slow motion.

“How did she get so lucky?” I asked Sarah.

“She ain’t lucky. My Mom says when you get boobs you get the curse too,” she said.

“What’s the curse?” I asked.

“Your period. You’re gonna bleed every month…from down there,” she pointed at the space between her Indian style legs.

“I bet it’s worth it. How do you think I can make my boobs grow?” I asked.

“My aunt Susan got hers to grow a couple years ago. She went to a doctor and came back all wrapped up in bandages.  When they took the bandages off, she was huge,” Sarah said.

“Do you know the doctor?!” I asked excited

“No. Beth asked Mom if she could go to the same doctor, and she said it was only for old ladies who lost the fight with gravity,” Sarah said.

“Hey do you think I can come over after school today, maybe Beth knows more than she says. She has boobs now right?”

“Yeah, but she got them normal style. It just sort of happened.”

“Well maybe she can tell me what to expect, so I can know when they will grow,” I said.

“Yeah sure. Oh and we got a cordless phone, so we can prank call the pizza place from my room now!” Sarah said clapping her hands.

“Awesome!” I yelled back.

The rest of the day flew by, and when the bell rang, Sarah and I met out front and walked to her house.  When we got there, Mrs., Jacobsen was on the phone.  She paced the kitchen with the cordless phone pinched between her ear and her shoulder, “What do you mean he can’t pay? He signed a contract! That penny-pinching sonofabitch!” She turned and saw us standing in the kitchen doorway, “Hi girls, would you mind running upstairs to play in the den?  I’ve got an important call to finish,” she said in the sweetest tone.

“Sure. Can we have some cheetos?” Sarah asked

“Don’t spill them.  And take a napkin, that orange powder gets everywhere,” she said quickly grabbing the bag from the pantry.

We ran upstairs to den.  It was a tiny wood paneled room with a TV set, roll top desk, and a rocking chair.  Sarah sprawled out on the floor and laid the napkins down filling each with a small haystack of cheetos in the center.  She lay on her stomach and turned on the TV.

“Hey pass me the remote.  It’s by the chair,” Sarah said pointing her thumb back at it. I pointed my toe forward and stood tall, like a ballerina, jumping towards the remote.  I poked my foot out in my wake so my sock foot dangled next to Sarah’s head.

“Eww, you’re feet stink!” She laughed pushing my foot.  I tilted unsteadily and jumped backwards crunching down on the cheeto haystack.  We both sucked in the air and held our breath.  I picked up my foot and the cheeto debris sprinkled onto the carpet.

“Stop moving, you’re spreading it!” She yelled.

“What do I do?” I asked.

“Sit down, and take your socks off, I’ll get the vacuum down the hall, She said.

She came back wheeling a small shop vac.

“Move my cheetos to the side, so I can suck up the dust,” she ordered.  I grabbed the corner of the napkin and slid her pile to the side.  She turned the vacuum on and started sucking the crumbs in front of my feet.  Each orange line erased in the carpet as she dragged the hose in short pulls.

“Don’t forget my socks,” I presented my feet into the air.  She brought the hose to my sock and the suction gasped as the sock sealed into the hose.  I pulled my feet back in fear as she turned off the switch.

“Woah,” I said examining the stretched out sock on my foot.

“This thing is strong,” Sarah said.

“Hey do you think that would work on skin?” I asked?

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

“Like if we put this on our skin, do you think it would stretch it out like it did to my sock?” I asked her.

“I don’t know. Maybe,” She said looking at the end of the hose.

“This is how I can make my boobs grow!” I said jumping up from the ground.”

“No, we can’t. My Mom will hear,” Sarah reasoned.

“She is still on the phone down there, she didn’t hear it before.  Come on, just let me try once and if it doesn’t work, we’ll turn it off and put it away,” I said.

“Fine,” Sarah said.

“I’ll position it, and you turn on the power ok?” I said grabbing the hose from her hand.  I pulled the hose under my shirt and peered down the neck hole to be sure I placed it in the right spot.

“How many seconds do you think?” Sarah asked.

“I don’t know, like 30 seconds?  I’ll stomp my foot to signal you to turn it off,” I told her.  “Ok, I’ll count down and you turn it on.  Ready, 3…2…1…GO!” I yelled.  The vacuum engine raged and gasped as the suction took hold.  My chest skin grew tight and began to pinch.  “Owww. Stop it,” I yelled falling to the floor.  I rolled onto the other cheeto haystack pulling at the hose, trying to loosen it from my chest.  Sarah killed the switch and ran over to me writhing in pain on the floor in the orange dust.

“Are you ok? Are you ok?”  She grabbed at the hose and it pulled my skin before popping off.  My nipple lay exposed burnt red and cracked.  I covered it with my hand and rolled like a log on the carpet.

I rolled forward onto my chest hugging myself tightly to stop the searing heat on my nipple.  I began to cry and snorted cheeto dust into my nostrils as I sobbed.  Mrs. Jacobsen appeared in the doorway,

“What the hell is going on up here?” She yelled with the cordless phone still in her hand.

She called my mother and we went to the hospital.  The doctors asked me what happened and applied ointments to my nipple.  I left with a bandage around my chest.  When I took it off, I didn’t have bigger boobs.  They were the same thing I’ve always had; except there was a scab covered nipple and my other regular one. I stopped praying for boobs and just stuck to the request for world peace.




Published in: on April 17, 2013 at 11:09 am  Comments (1)  
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One CommentLeave a comment

  1. Awesome, you need to write more, so funny, made a gloomy day be sunny

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