“Hur hur, Frankie Boy! How many fingers am I holding up?”
Frank groaned. “Ronald, you’re a tortoise. You don’t have any fingers.”
“C’mon, Frankie Boy! Play along!”
“Fine. Zero.”
“Ya got me!” grinned Ronald.
The aquarium was blissfully peaceful for about ten seconds. Then:
“Hey, Frankie Boy, pull my finger!”
Uncle Carl was really irritating sometimes. He was born with two thumbs on his right hand, and he liked to pinch me with them. Man was that painful!
Then he lost one of the thumbs in an accident. I liked him better after that.
I miss him since he died.
Don (D.L.) Chance has been a lifelong voracious reader and writes fiction of all kinds.