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Garth Callaghan

Napkin Notes Dad

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Cancer and Horse Manure

WGarth Callaghan

When I was in eighth grade, Mrs. Nona Wiley (yes, I do remember all of my teachers) shared a story with the class.

The story went something like this:

There were twin boys. They were young, probably around six. Although the boys were twins, their personalities were incredibly different. One was extremely happy and the other was extremely anxious.  The parents took the boys to see a counselor.

The counselor devised an exam. There were two rooms and the boys were separated. The anxious boy was taken to a room filled with every possible toy and game. I am imagining an Atari, G.I. Joes, Star Wars action figures, a PAC-MAN machine, TCR (Total Control Racing) with JAM Car; a MERLIN, Stretch Armstrong, and more! That boy sat in the middle of the room and cried. The boy was terrified of breaking the toys and was paralyzed by his fear.

The happy boy was put into a practically empty room.  There were no games or toys. It only had a large pile of horse manure. The stink was overpowering and practically unbearable.

The counselor was completely unprepared for the reaction of the happy boy. He immediately ran into the room and started to climb the pile of manure while simultaneously digging into the pile. He lept around the room and threw as much manure around as he could. The counselor looked on in amazement, finally asking, "What are you doing?"

“With all this crap,” the happy boy replied, “there has to be be a pony in here somewhere!” 

I am that boy.  Now, where's my pony?!?