Wiggum and the Wolf

So today was the day that daddy and I were going on our father-son camp. Fun for everyone! Daddy looked at me and said, "Aw… crap, Ralphie, we don't have our tent! I left it at home." He looked sad, but he didn't have a reason to look sad. I picked up some brown grass and started tying the ends together. "Ralphie… what are you doing?"

I was building a tent out of brown grass. I thought that should be obvious. But grown-ups always say I'm 'special' so maybe they mean that I have psychotic powers that make me see things they don't see. Like I'm a meaty yum or something. So I humored daddy. I told him, "I'm building a tent out of brown grass!"

He smiled at me and said, "Ralphie, I don't think that's the sturdiest thing. All someone would have to do is blow and it would come tumbling down. Let's go gather some sticks." I pushed daddy away.

I told him, "No daddy. I want to build my tent MY way. I'm a world famous carpenter!" So I built the tent out of brown grass, and daddy built his out of sticks. "I want picnic time!" I shouted.

"Oh… oh, no! Ralphie, I seem to have left our picnic basket at home too!" he shouted as I started to cry. I had made daddy's sandwich and everything using that magical silver herb dispenser on daddy's office desk, a couple of folders that said C-L-A-S-S-I-F-I-E-D on them, and some photographs of guys holding up cards with huge numbers on them. And now he wouldn't be able to enjoy it. "Hey, don't get all upset, sweetie. We can go fishing for food!"

I had never gone fishing before! I was very excited. I went into the trunk of the car, where I saw three fishing rods: one for daddy and one for me. Or was that only two? Anyway, we started fishing at the riverside. I caught a bite, and I assumed it was a big old fish. But it was only an old can of tuna. It was empty and open, and I wondered why someone would drop that in the river, like they hadn't heard of garbage cans before. Even I knew what a garbage can was.

Suddenly I heard a sound come from my side. It was a scream! And daddy wasn't there. I was so scared I made myself wet. It was so scary. I didn't know what to do so I screamed back. I screamed until my face turned purple, but no sound responded. So I cried. Then I saw a big dog come over to me. He said, "Get back, you ugly kid! You can't have any of my delicious bacon dinner."

"Bacon dinner! Yummy!" I said. I started to follow the big dog, and saw that he had cornered daddy. "Daddy!!" I shrieked. "I'll save you from the big doggie."

"It's not a doggie, Ralphie. It's a WOLF! And it's trying to EAT me! Get away from it."

I told the big doggie, "Daddy isn't made of bacon! He's a police officer!"

"If it looks like a pig and eats like a pig and some people call it a pig, it must be a pig," said the big doggie. "And you can't have any of my bacon dinner."

"HEY!" yelled my daddy, "Stop growling at my son! He's too innocent and young to be attacked by a wolf."

"It talks to me, daddy. It says you're a piggie."

"Oh, that's original…" daddy said and he made his eyes do a summer salt. I was trying my best to reason with the big doggie, but he kept slobbering and looking mad at me. I walked backward, and looked for his fork and knife so that I could hide them, but I couldn't find any.

"Mr. Big Doggie, how can you eat daddy if you don't have any tools?" I asked, smiling at him. But then he started drooling on me.

"Maybe I'll eat you as an appetizer!" he said looking at me. I slapped him on the nose.

"Bad doggie!" I shouted, but he started attacking me.

Daddy came up from behind calling my name, diving on top of the big doggie and squishing him with his big bubbly belly. Luckily, daddy made it to me before I got hurt. The big doggie was not a happy boy. He was panting hard and looked like he was hurting pretty bad. So I gave him my hand to show that I was friendly, but he tried to put it in his mouth. Daddy picked me up and carried me out of there.

I was sad because the camping trip was cancelled. But daddy said, "Wow… the wilds sure are dangerous. It's much safer cooking melons in good familiar Springfield…" I think. But I was confused because I didn't usually cook melons. I asked daddy about it. "No, I said 'booking felons'." I was still confused. "Putting bad guys behind bars!"

"Oh!" I said, with a smile on my face, because daddy and I would bond this way forever… without any big doggies to get in the way anymore.