The Booby Trap

Nurse Phoebe rubbed the bridge of her nose between her eyes. She was having a difficult time wrapping her brain around the story that the five adults in front of her were telling. She heaved an exasperated sigh and looked up at her patients. The only one who didn’t appear to be injured was the cute little 4 year old boy cradled comfortably in his father’s good arm. He looked at her with his big blue eyes as he sucked on his bright pink stained fingers. His mouth and chin were stained the same bright pink as his fingers, and he just looked so gosh darn cute that Phoebe found it hard to believe that this little angel could be the cause of all this mayhem. She straightened up, picked up her pen and clipboard, and cleared her throat.

“Let’s try this again, shall we? From the top, with you, sir?” She pointed at the boy’s father. He took a breath, and began his part of the story.

“My son and I were on the foot bridge overlooking the path down to the beach. I had just given him a popsicle, and because of the heat it was melting fast. He took a bite, and a chunk of it fell off. I tried to catch it, but I cracked my elbow on the railing. I can barely move it. I think something is either broken or bruised really bad.”

“The lady’s boobies catched it!”

The little boy’s voice carried across the entire waiting room. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to the group at the admission desk. The boy’s father blushed, but it was the woman seated beside him that turned beet red. The nurse looked at her injured hand, looked her in the eyes, then allowed her gaze to drift down to her bosom. Sure enough, there was a bright pink stain that matched the little boy’s face and fingers. It was the woman’s turn to clear her throat.

“Um, yeah, we were walking down to the beach and had just come out from under the foot bridge when a piece of popsicle dropped right into my cleavage!”

Phoebe heard a snort behind her. She turned to glare at the intern who just walked in. He had his hand clamped over his mouth, and his eyes were turning red from the suppressed laughter. He murmured something about going to do “the thing” and hastily walked out of sight. Phoebe turned back around to face the young woman and motioned for her to continue.

“When the popsicle hit me, at first I didn’t know what it was, and it was ice cold, so I screamed and jumped. It scared my dog, and she ran. Her leash was wrapped around my hand, and she yanked me so hard I think a couple of fingers are broken.”

The nurse took her hand and examined her fingers. They were definitely bruising, but it would need an X-ray to determine if any bones were broken. She looked up at the young man standing behind her. He was cradling his right arm. “And how did you get injured, and what part? Your arm?”

“My shoulder,” he said. “I tried to catch the dog, but I tripped on something in the sand, and I hit my shoulder on the No Skateboarding sign as I fell.” He pulled down the sleeve of his T-shirt to reveal a huge purple bruise on his shoulder. Nurse Phoebe noted a request for another X-ray. She was beginning to think that the little boy was the only one who wasn’t going to need one. She turned and looked at the young man carrying the outrageously painted skateboard. She thought it would be a laughable irony if he had crashed into the No Skateboarding sign too.

“I didn’t see the sign,” he began, “and I didn’t see the dog until it was too late. She ran right out in front of me. I tried to stop, but my board went right out from under me.  I landed on my ass on the sidewalk. I think I broke my tailbone!”

This time Phoebe couldn’t discern where the giggles were coming from. As it was, she had a hard time keeping a straight face as the chain of events unfolded. She looked at the older gentleman who appeared to have a black eye and a broken nose.

“I got hit in the face with a flying skateboard.”

Now nearly everyone in the waiting room was snickering, including the party of five injured at the desk. The intern had also returned, with a couple of other nurses in tow. It was obvious they were all there just to hear the outrageous tale that the group was recounting. The little boy was smiling at everyone laughing.

“Sandra!”

An older man burst in through the main doors, clutching a bag of frozen peas to his groin and limping.

“Oh my God, dad!” The young lady with the broken fingers jumped up. “What happened? Are you alright? Did you find Winnie?”

“Yes I found your damn dog, she took a shit in my truck!” Sandra looked confused at the bag of peas her father was holding on his nether regions. “The turd rolled under my seat and stuck to the bottom of my shoe. I didn’t know it was there until I stepped out. I slipped and my left leg went sideways while my right leg stayed in the truck. Never in my life have I ever done the splits, and for a damn good reason! My legs weren’t meant to move like that! I’m not a ballerina!” He grabbed the nearest wheelchair, dropped into it, and adjusted the leg rest for his left leg.

“Ew, daddy something stinks! Did you fart again?”

And that was the last straw. Poor Phoebe couldn’t handle it anymore, and she dissolved into fits of laughter. To make matters worse, there, on the bottom of the man’s shoe, in all it’s smelly glory, was a fat, smeared dog turd.

All this, because of a little boy’s melting popsicle.