By Dan Leicht
“Daddy, what’re you doing?”
“Well, Son. I’m filling this bowl up with beer to attract slugs.”
“Because we need to get rid of them. Come on over here and take a look.”
The young boy walked down the steps leading from the garage and joined his father in the side yard. His father had filled one of their cereal bowls with a yellow foaming brew from a silver can, the type he always drinks two of after work, and nestled it into their green lawn.
“Why do slugs like beer so much?” asked the boy.
“Because they have long days too and need to relax.”
“Will they be okay after they come get a drink?”
“Maybe. I’m doing this to make mommy happy. She doesn’t like the slugs. She says they’re gross.”
“Do you think they’re gross?”
His father laughed and shook his head.
“How about you tell me what you think when we check on this bowl tomorrow?” said the father.
The next day the slug slaying soldiers stepped into the side yard to inspect the bowl. Passed out around the edges were a dozen slugs. The young boy bent his knees and inspected the bowl from a catcher’s stance.
“They drank too much,” he said, looking up to his father. “I think they need some water and headache medicine.”
“I think they do too. So, do you think they’re gross?” asked the father.
“No, just different. They are slimy little lump people, but to them we probably look like giants with stupid faces.”
“Slimy little lump people, eh?” How about you go inside and start cleaning up our dishes from breakfast. I’ll put these guys somewhere they can relax.”
“You promise they’ll be safe?”
The young boy scurried into the house as his father opened up the lid of the blue trash container. He poured the bowl into the container and set the bowl back down on the lawn. He cracked open a silver can and poured its contents into the bowl.
“Don’t drink so much this time. You slimy little lump people.”