Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction

Something learned from Nanny

One day, Sir William Petry Oliver Winchell Thomas-York-Staplehammer received a call from his friend Joey.

“Will, how ya doin?” Joey said “Can you do me a huge favor? My wife just called and said our son’s up on the oak tree in front of the house and he can’t get down.”

“Of course, dear chap, how can I help?” Sir William replied.

“There was a multi-car accident on the freeway an hour ago. So I can’t get away from work right now. This emergency room’s insane. Can you go by the house and see if you can help get him down?”

Sir William of course agreed. He walked across the street to Joey’s house. And indeed, there was Joey’s son, sobbing quietly on a branch fifteen feet up in the air.

Being an aristocrat, Sir William has traveled far and wide and has spent many of his leisure hours pursuing adventure. He has climbed the Himalayas, sailed unchartered seas, fought lions bare-handed in the African desert, et cetera, et cetera. So, it was no effort at all for him to climb up to the branch on which the boy sat.

However, when he got there, the boy scooted away from him, wanting nothing to do with him.

“Little fellow, won’t you come down from there?”

“No!” screamed the boy. “If I try to climb down, I’ll fall and get a boo-boo and then I’ll cry!”

“Little fellow, I assure you you’ll be quite safe in my hands. I’ve climbed the Himalayas, sailed unchartered…” Sir William noticed the boy starting to doze off.

“Ahem…my dear boy, tell me what exactly is the problem?”

“I’m hungry. If I try to climb down while I’m hungry, I’ll faint and then I’ll get a boo-boo and cry!”

“Oh dear me. Well, what if I got you some food?” Sir William leapt gracefully from the tree, waltzed into the kitchen and returned with a carrot.

“Blech! I hate carrots!” the boy made a face as if to cry.

“No, no, I will come back with something better to offer.” Sir William pirouetted into the kitchen, this time returning with a cucumber sandwich.

“You’re not a parent, are you?” the boy asked.

“No, I am not.”

"Were you even raised by people who were parents?"

"Erm....hold on, I've got it!" Sir William pranced back to the kitchen, this time returning with a spoon. He leapt up onto the branch and stuck the spoon into the boy’s wailing mouth.

The boy blinked, sucked, then swallowed. He stopped crying, climbed into Sir William’s arms and came safely down from the tree.

“Oh, Will, how did you ever get him down?” Joey’s wife asked.

“Well, I remembered something my nanny once told me.”

“What’s that?”

“A spoonful of sugar helps the medic’s son go down!”

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