Tales From The Park At Candy Mountain

I was babysitting my friend’s kids, and we had all just come back from the park. The oldest retreated to her room as she often does, and I started entertaining the younger. I had worked up a sweat having to carry the youngest on my shoulders and his bike up the hill to the house, so I decided to strip off my shirt to cool down some. I figured a two-year-old boy wasn’t going to complain if the man watching him showed off his non-abs for a little while.

However, the kid found my naked belly amusing and started playing with my belly button. Surprisingly, he managed to notice the tiny, white — and usually nearly impossible to see — scar running along the length of my belly button and asked me what it was. So, I was obliged to try to explain that I had donated a kidney to a child around his age a long time ago, even though I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t fully understand.

Me: “So, now that boy has the two kidneys he always had and my kidney, meaning he gets three kidneys and I only have one.”

My friend’s son is still learning to talk, and to be honest, I only get about two-thirds of what he is saying, so this is just my best attempt to translate his babble.

Kid: “Me have three kidneys.”

Me: “You do?! Why do you get three?”

Kid: “Me have them!”

Me: “Well, if you have an extra kidney, I think you should share one with me. Then we would each have two.”

Kid: “No, my kidney.”

Me: “You’re not going to share?! But you have three, and I only get one. Is that fair?”

Kid: “No, me need them.”

Me: “Oh? Why do you need an extra kidney?”

Kid: “Me need three to be [Kid].”

Me: “You do, now? And where did you get your extra kidney from?”

There was a good bit of babble here I wasn’t able to translate, but this is the bit I was able to get.

Kid: “At the park. The bad, bad, bad park in a box.”

Me: “You found your kidney in a box at a bad park? Well, that seems totally legit. I’m sure no one is going to be asking questions about that.”

Later, when his mom got home, I couldn’t help but share that little tidbit.

Me: “And speaking of parks, did you know that your son told me he found a kidney in a box at a ‘bad, bad, bad’ park?”

Friend: “You know what? I’m not going to ask about that.”

Me: “Good idea — less to explain to the cops that way.”