The moral of the story is….

20 09 2013

I’m lazy. I’ve been lazy for a long time. I wasn’t always this way. I recall a few summers back in the 80s when I was a ball of energy, but that slowly wore off, and I began to see the merits of lying down. For as long as possible. As much as possible.

I like lying down so much that sometimes I wonder if I could do it for a living, then I realize there’s totally a job where you lie down for a living, and that job is prostitution.

I wonder how many prostitutes get into that line of work because of how much they like lying down? I would estimate at least 2-5% of them. This statistic is based on nothing but pure conjecture.

I was so lazy when I was a kid that I wouldn’t go to the sink to empty out glasses of water that had gone stale, I’d just pour them directly on the carpet. My parents never turned on the air conditioner even though it was Arizona in the summer, so the water would evaporate within 15 minutes.

Anyways. As I got older and moved into prepubescence my mother started to notice this worrying tendency of mine, and a light bulb went off over her head. A light bulb that went something like:

“Hey, maybe I should stop letting her do whatever she wants as long as she keeps getting Outstandings on her report cards. Also maybe I should stop leaving her at home alone because kids’ imaginations go deeply wild and terrifying when left alone without any guidance, and maybe that’s why she has the night terrors every night.”

Note: I complain about my parents a lot, but they had to work their asses off every day just to survive, and I’m mainly complaining for comedic value.

To teach me the benefits of being an industrious, hardworking member of society, she said.

“Hey, listen. Be an industrious hardworking member of society!”

and I said

“Why? Sounds hard.”

and she told me a story (The only other story my mother has ever told me was the tale of the Count of Monte Cristo):

“Once there was a little boy who lived alone with his mother.”

“Where was his father?”

“Off in Alaska working in a Chinese restaurant like your dad.”

“Oh. Why is dad in Alaska?”

“There’s no Chinese food in Alaska so they need someone to cook it.”


“Anyways, Once there was a little boy who lived alone with his mother, and this little boy was SO Lazy.”

“How lazy?”

“this little boy was SO Lazy that he would sit in one place doing nothing from morning till night if left to himself, so his poor mother had to cook for him, and dress him, and bathe him, and feed him even though he was already 10 years old. His mother had a job during the day time, and when she came home at night she had to work her butt off just to take care of her lazy son.

One day, the boy’s mother found out she would have to go on a business trip for 2 months, and she’d have to leave her boy home alone for that whole time.”

“Why didn’t she take him along?”

“No money.” <— this was virtually the ONLY answer my mom had for anything I asked her for. Except she used to say it really cute, like this: “Noh Maaaaaahnee.”

“Why didn’t she ask his dad to come home?”

“No money.”

“Why didn’t she ask the neighbours for help?”

“You think the world is full of neighbours to help you? We live alone and we die alone.

Anyways. She worried night and day about what her poor boy would do while she was gone. How would he eat?

Finally, she came up with a brilliant plan. The mother baked a HUUUUGE pancake the size of this room.”

“This room? Where did she get a pan so big?!”



“They don’t sell pans that big at Costco!”

“They do, you have to special order them. Anyways. She baked a HUUUUUGE pancake the size of a room, and then she cut a hole in the middle and popped the whole thing over the boy’s head. Then she said to him ‘Lazy-bones if you get hungry, food is right around your neck, just lean forward and eat it! I am going to leave for two months, but this pancake should be enough to tide you over’.

Then the boy’s mother left for her business trip, happy and satisfied.”

“What about pooping and peeing? How did he do those things?”

“Uh….She dug a hole in the ground.”

“Ew! So he’s eating right above his number ones and twos? Won’t the pancake touch the hole?”

“Listen. Do you want to hear the ending or not?”


“Then shut up. Anyways…after two months, the mother came home from the business trip, missing her boy very much. But when she got home, she found him facedown in the middle of the room. He had starved to death.”

“What? Why?!”

“Because he had been too lazy to turn his head and eat around himself! He ate straight through the pancake and then there was nothing left so he starved!”

“OH NO!”

“Isn’t it horrible?”


“Well you are almost as lazy as that little boy. Don’t you think something like that could happen to you if you get lazier and lazier?”

“No way! I’m lazy but I’m not stupid. I would turn my head. And I would get up to go number ones and twos. Mom. Can you buy one of those giant pans from Costco and make a giant pancake like the boy in the story so I can just sit there and eat without getting up?”

“哎哟我的妈呀、我该拿你怎么办啊?” (Trans: Oh my mother, what am I going to do with you?)






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