One Quirk Later: In Which Celery Is Electrified And Goldfish Meet Untimely Ends

 

Hey guys! It's been a really long time since I gave a Quirk a post of its own, but since I've adopted my new wrap-up format, I thought that it would be a good time to go back to posting Quirks by themselves. :) Of course, this is a linkup with the fantabulous fairy godmother of owlish fame Jem Jones, who has been hosting this Quirk for many months (this is the 16th one? how is that possible??). 

(Also, I would like to say that this is the first time possibly ever that I've written a post the day before it releases...usually I write them weeks ahead of time! Who am I, and what have I done with myself? XD)

Now without further ado, on to the Quirk! (Which is short. Because life is crazy. But hey, I had fun.)

I sit down on the couch with a sigh. It’s been a long day. When I agreed to babysit my mom’s friend’s son, I didn’t realize how much of a holy terror he would be. And it’s not that he’s purposefully wreaking havoc, exactly. He just has what my mom would call a “scientific mind”, meaning that he wants to find out what would happen if he did just about anything.
Including things like putting a piece of celery in an electrical outlet, sliding down the (tiled) stairs in a sleeping bag, and eating his own feces.
I did stop him from doing that last one, just barely.
But right now, I’ve given him a show to watch (which his mom said was okay, for the record), and am stealing some well-earned peace and quiet with my book.
Until I hear little feet pattering upstairs, followed in quick succession by a toilet flushing.
“Derrick,” I call upstairs, “what are you doing? Why aren’t you watching The Three Little Pandas?”
He appears at the top of the stairs, hanging on one of the banister slats. His hair is all sticking up in front, and he looks very slightly guilty.
“Derrick,” I ask, probably letting a little too much exhaustion into my voice, “what did you do.”
He swings back and forth on the slat, looking at his feet. “I want you to know,” he says finally, “but I don’t want to tell you.”
I put my bookmark in. It sounds like this is going to be a little harder to solve than just “please go back to Three Little Pandas”.
“How am I supposed to find out if you don’t tell me?” I ask him, heading up the stairs.
He looks up at me. “Look in my room, I guess.”
Oh dear. I head down the hallway towards his room, from which are emerging the dulcet tones of Three Little Pandas, with some trepidation.
Please, God, don’t let it involve poop.
But when I step into the room, there’s no smell, there’s no mess, Three Little Pandas is still playing just like I left it.
I turn slowly on my heel, surveying the room. It looks just like—oh.
“Derrick,” I ask slowly, “why is your goldfish bowl empty?”
I’m pretty sure I already know, but I’m hoping that the answer is different than the one I’ve already inferred.
“Um,” he says, crossing his small arms just like an adult who doesn’t want to tell you something. “I was curious if it wanted to live in the toilet.”
‘I was curious’, the three words that have been haunting me all day, almost worse than the dreaded ‘I wanted to see what would happen’.
But as I consider his words, a ray of hope dawns. “Is it still in the toilet?”
“Well, I needed to pee, after I put it in the toilet, and Mom says always to flush the toilet after you pee.”
I run my hand over my face. Well, there’s not much I can do about that, I guess.
“Can I get it back?” he asks unexpectedly.
I just look at him for a couple of seconds. If this kid tries to get me to climb into the sewer to find his goldfish…or worse, tries to climb into the sewer himself…dear God, why does so much of my day today involve human waste? “Um, definitely not,” I tell him, leaving out all mention of sewers. “That goldfish is long gone.” I don't have to tell him how or why.
His face crumples. “But I want my goldfish back!”
“Well,” I tell him, “if you wanted to keep your goldfish, you shouldn’t have flushed it down the toilet.”
Put that on the list of sentences I’ve never expected to have to say.

What's your strangest babysitting story? I'm all of a sudden very curious. :)