Slava Brodsky: Funny Children's Stories

And our homeroom teacher said, “Sit down, sit down.”

And then everyone sat down. Here the principal said that he knew that in our class, students were not students but simply pygmies.* And that some of us (and he looked at me again) had even lost their human appearance because everything was always funny to them.

“Some of you,” he added still looking in my direction, “always stick their big noses into everything.** Such individuals should behave more modestly. Those who do not understand this can be thrown out of school in a minute.”

The principal began to explain to us how we should behave in school. “What were you talking about?” the principal asked our homeroom teacher.

“We’re just talking about what you said,” replied the homeroom teacher. “I was just telling them that they behave like pigs.”

“Pygmies,” the principal said and started towards the doors. We all rose. “Goodbye,” said the principal and went out of the classroom.

The principal left, but we still remained standing.

“May we sit down?” someone asked again.

“Sit down, sit down,” the homeroom teacher said. Then he paused for a moment and said, “I told you that you behaved like…” And he hesitated for a moment.

And I quickly added, “… like pigs?”

Here everyone laughed. Because what I said turned out to be very funny. Even though I did not expect that at all. And our homeroom teacher looked at me very unkindly and said, “You’ll have my comments on your report card.” Then he added, “Homeroom is over. Go home.”

I went home and thought about why I was always smiling and how many problems it caused me. It seems that I am not always aware that I am smiling. Even when I think I am just looking at someone, I am actually, for some reason, smiling.

Maybe my mouth and cheeks are shaped that way? Maybe they are somehow sculpted in the form of a smile?

And then I recalled what our math teacher told us about Bulgaria. I mean I recalled that when Bulgarians say “no,” they nod. And when they say “yes,” they shake their heads from side to side.

And here is what I thought. If such a thing is possible in Bulgaria, then there might exist other countries where something else is backwards. What if there is such a country where it is good when you smile and not good when you do not. And if such country exists then I would like to know about it. I just simply need to know. Then it would be much easier for me to live my life.

The Tea Spoon

I got sick yesterday. Caught a cold. I even had a fever. And Dad suggested Mom give me a couple of aspirins. But Mom said that she did not want to self-medicate and that she would call for a doctor.

And then Dad said that it did not make any sense to call for a doctor. Because she would not have much time for me. She would need to make dozens of house calls and still find enough time to do some grocery shopping. So it was very easy to predict that there would be no point in her coming here.

Mom and Dad began to argue about whether or not they should call for a doctor. And then Dad said that he could easily predict everything that the doctor would do. But Mom said that because Dad does not have any medical background, there was no way that he could foresee what the doctor would do.

But Dad insisted that he already knew exactly what would happen. And if Mom wanted, he would act it out right then and there.

I asked Dad what it meant—to act it out. And Dad said that he would pretend to be a doctor.

I liked that idea very much and started to ask Mom and Dad to act it out together. At first, Mom did not want to do it, but eventually she agreed. Dad only asked that everything should be as though it was for real. And that Mom should even bring a clean towel for him while he washed his hands.

And so, Dad left our room.* Then he went out of our apartment onto the staircase and closed the door. And Mom and I waited to see what would happen next.

The bell rang. My mom went to open the door. And I asked Mom not to close the door of our room, so that I could hear everything they might say out in the corridor.

So Mom opened the door.

Dad said, “Hello. Did you call for a doctor?”

And I heard Mom laughing as she answered, “Hello. Yes, we did. Our child is sick.”

Dad asked my mom where he could wash his hands. Mom came into our room, took a towel, and brought it to Dad. Dad started to wash his hands. And I heard the water running down the drain of our kitchen sink.

Finally, Mom and Dad entered our room. And then I understood why Mom laughed when she opened the door for Dad. Because Dad had managed to throw on a white rag to make it look like he was wearing a doctor’s smock.

But Dad was not laughing and was not even smiling. He asked where he could sit down. Mom moved a chair next to my bed. But Dad said that he needed to be able to write and sat down at our round dinner table. Dad asked what was wrong and whether the child had a fever. And Mom answered that the child had a cold and a slight fever.

Then Dad asked Mom to bring a clean teaspoon. When Mom gave Dad a spoon, Dad came up to me and said, “Open your mouth.” I opened my mouth. Dad pressed down on my tongue with the spoon and asked me to say “ah.”

Then Dad sat down at the table again, took out his pen, and wrote “Aspirin” on a sheet of paper. He stood up from the chair and went to the door. Dad opened the door, turned to my mom, and said, “In three days, come to my office with your child.”

Then Mom said to Dad that the whole thing did not seem realistic and that she would still call the doctor tomorrow morning. “At least to get a release slip for work,” said Mom. At that time, Dad did not object.

Today the doctor came to our apartment in the evening when Dad had already come home. When the bell rang, Mom went to open the door. And again, I asked Mom not to close the door of our room.

Mom opened the outside door, and I heard a woman’s voice, “Hello. Did you call for a doctor?”

“Hello,” replied my mom, “Yes, we did. Our child is sick.”

The doctor asked my mom where she could wash her hands. Mom ran into our room, took a clean towel, and took it to the kitchen. I again heard the water running down the drain.

And then they entered our room. Dad pointed to the chair at the round table. The doctor sat down and asked, “What’s wrong with the child?”

Mom said that I had a cold.

“Fever?” asked the doctor.

“Yes,” answered Mom.

Then the doctor said, “A clean teaspoon please.”

She came up to me and asked me to open my mouth. I opened my mouth. The doctor put a spoon in my mouth and pressed down on my tongue. She put the spoon in much deeper than Dad did yesterday. And that was very unpleasant. She asked me to say “ah.” When I said “ah,” she looked at my throat and sat back down at the table.

The doctor opened her briefcase, took out a blank prescription form, and wrote out a prescription for aspirin. “To get the fever down,” she said. Then she filled in a release slip for Mom and said, “I’ll see you in my office in three days.” And started to the door.

Mom and Dad walked her out. And when they returned, they began to laugh. I asked them why they were laughing. Mom tried to say something but could not because they started to laugh again.

Finally, Mom said that as the doctor was leaving, she turned to Mom and said, “Give something warm to your daughter to drink.”

And Dad said to Mom that he realized he had been wrong. Because he had been unable to predict everything that the doctor would do.

A Silver Half-Ruble

In early spring, as soon as we can find a piece of pavement clean of snow and ice, we play different coin games: Coin Wall, Treasury, Flip Over, and Catch Up.