Tag Archives: boy

1788. Noah

The anaesthetist was lovely; so kind and reassuring.

“I bet you can’t count up to ten,” she said to the four-year old boy.

“Yes I can. I can count up to twenty.”

“Let’s hear it,” said the anaesthetist.

“One. Two. Three…” He was out to it.

Later, when he woke up, he can’t remember what else there was to eat, but he had some ice cream.

Repeat of Story 134: Veljka alights

(Today we begin a week or so of repeats. These stories are not necessarily the best, or the most popular, or the ones I like. I’ve chosen them fairly much at random so I can have the week off! This story, “Veljka alights”, first appeared on this blog on 21 February 2014. Some of you faithful followers who read and commented on this story back then are now old and haggard. Enjoy!)

Veljka began to notice Ramon at school. She was becoming quite infatuated by him; his good looks, his intelligence, his laugh, his sportsmanship, his studiousness, his jovial conversations. He was beautiful. But he hardly noticed her. She noticed him, saw him, heard him, all the time. She would sit in the back corner of the classroom paying little attention to the lessons. Her eyes were on Ramon.

How natural and lovely he was when he chatted away – to everyone but Veljka it seemed. She wasn’t part of his group. For the annual school dance, he asked Cassandra to be his date. Cassandra was a nice person. Veljka wasn’t the jealous sort. But it made her sad.

One day, Veljka was on the bus and Ramon got on. The bus was full, except for one seat next to Veljka. Ramon sat next to her. Their knees accidentally touched. Veljka’s heart raced. She thought she would burst. She thought she would die. She thought she would faint. She thought she would stop breathing. Ahhhh! He didn’t take his knee away.

“How’s it going?” said Ramon.

“Ah, ah, oh,” said Veljka.

“Tell me,” said Ramon, “is your hair naturally that shade? I notice it all the time at school.”

All the time! All the time! “Yes,” said Veljka. “It’s natural. But I was thinking of dyeing it.”

“Don’t dye it,” said Ramon. “It’s beautiful. I notice you all the time.”

Notice me! Notice me!

Ramon left the bus. “Catch you later,” he said.

“See you,” said Veljka. She got off the bus at the next stop. She had overrun her home stop by seventeen minutes. She danced the eight miles home.

1060. Church dance

Gunson wasn’t keen to go to the annual parish dance. They’re all into religion, said Gunson. Going to church was the last thing on his mind when he went to a dance.

You’re all of nineteen, said his mother, and it’s work, work, work. All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy.

So Gunson grudgingly put on his best semi-casual attire and went to the dance. He walked into the church hall and there was Cressida! Cressida! He’d never laid eyes on her before. She was radiant. She was the best thing since sliced bread. He asked her for a dance, and they danced all evening.

How was it? asked his mother the next morning.

It was alright, mumbled Gunson.

A few weeks later, Gunson’s mother was puzzled.

I can’t understand why you’ve started going to church on Sundays, she said.

970. Buying shirts


And you thought buying clothes for an eleven year old girl was hard! Just try buying shirts for an eleven year old boy! Kimberley took her son shopping for a couple of shirts.

It was one of those department stores that have a bit of everything, and a reasonable range of boys’ clothing. Nathan wanted to try everything on. Does it match? Is it the right size? Will I grow out of it too soon? The pattern wasn’t right, it was too girly.

Kimberley was at the end of her tether. “It doesn’t matter, dear. They all look nice. Just make a choice.”

But Nathan had to try on one more shirt.

That was when the terrorist bomb went off.

Listen to the story being read HERE!

665. It’s a boy!

© Bruce Goodman 6 August 2015


Moira and Archie had five daughters: Muriel, Betty, Grace, Mary, and Eunice. They loved their daughters greatly, but sort of hoped for a son. Don’t get me wrong; if they had five sons they would’ve hoped for a daughter.

Archie read and practised everything he could find to increase the chances of creating a boy. He drank lots of coffee before doing the deed. Apparently coffee greatly excited the male spermatozoa and they swam to the egg in an enthusiastic sprint.

He ate less fruit and vegetables because little X-chromosomes liked their fruit and vegetables too much. In fact, he had a strictly alkaline diet because little Y-chromosomes disliked acid. He upped his intake of sodium and potassium, and of calcium and magnesium. He consulted the Chinese Lunar Calendar. He hit the chocolate, because according to the copy of Women Today and Yesterday in the dentist’s waiting room, skinny people produce girls.

And you know what? It worked! It worked! They had a boy! This was a few years back.

Today, David (or Davinia as she is now known) is the apple of her father’s eye.