Who Took My Cheese?

Cheese3

Jared came home from a pretty crappy day in the 5th grade. Which is why when he opened the refrigerator door and looked for his Irish, 10-year aged cheddar cheese and it was not there, he yelled, “Who took my cheese?”

Jared’s mom came into the kitchen, concerned about Jared’s tone. Jared’s Mom said, “Jared, remember, we do not yell in this household. Now, what’s the problem, Jare-Jare?”

Jared took a deep breath and started to tell his tale of woe, “My day started out like every other day that dad drops me off in front of the school, embarrassing me with his ‘I love you’s’ and ‘Text me at lunch how you’re doing!’ It’s pathetic.”

“Hey, that’s your father you’re talking about,” said Jared’s Mom.

“I’m sorry, but hashtag truth hurts. So, after dad drove off to his hell-foresaken job, his words, not mine, I was promptly warned by Yasmine and Richie that I should expect a beating at lunch time. They hadn’t broken anyone’s bones in a while and needed to hear that crunching noise.”

Jared’s Mom quickly hugged Jared to see if he was okay. “My little boy got hurt?”

Jared squirmed away from his mom. “No. I’m getting to that part. I nodded to them and went to first period. It was ho-hum, until Becky came over to me and asked if I wanted to try French kissing in the bathroom. It sounded fun so I followed her to the girl’s bathroom after class. She told me close my eyes and stick my tongue out. I felt a wet, slimy thing on my tongue. I opened my eyes and was staring at a frog she held in her hands. His gross tongue licking mine. All of her friends were there and they took a photo to post online. I asked her why she would do that and she said, ‘I do that to all losers before Richie fights them. We’re a serious couple.’ I started crying as they left.”

“Oh, Jared. This Richie and his friends sound horrible,” said Jared’s Mom.

“Yeah, but he’s very popular kid at school. He can do whatever he wants. He could stuff the principal’s face in the toilet and people would still love him. Anyway, in my math class Mister Ulrich gave us a pop quiz and graded us right there, announcing our scores to everyone. He publicly revealed I got a D minus. Even the ADD kid, who missed half the quarter because of hives, scored higher than me. By the time it was lunch I didn’t give a crap about Yasmine and Richie. They came over to where I was sitting and asked if I was ready for a beating. I told them I would love it. I’ve been looking forward to blood and bones and that I hope my blood goes up their noses and they choke on it and die. They stopped for a moment and said, ‘Freak. We’ll just take your money.’ I gave them the five dollars dad gave me—“

“You’re father gave you five dollars? Why?” asked Jared’s Mom.

“I don’t know and I don’t care, but I was going to use it to buy a nose ring and lunch for Kylie, an older girl in the 6th grade who I like a lot. Now, she’ll never know how much I pine for her. Then at the end of school in P.E. class, Coach Gorgonzolavich forced us run the mile in under five minutes. I tried really hard to run that fast, but I was seven minutes over. As Coach G was berating me, I lost all function of my body and vomited everywhere and peed myself at the same time.”

“Oh, we need to get you changed’ said Jared’s Mom.

“So, you can imagine when I got home after a day like today and opened the refrigerator that I would be peeved that someone had stolen the last piece of my God-damn, mother-fucking cheese!”

“Jared!” said Jared’s Mom in shock.

Jared’s sister and dad rushed into the kitchen.

“What in the holy Hell is going on in here?” said Jared’s Dad.

“Jared’s in trouble,” teased Jared’s Sister.

“I’m very pissed off that someone took my cheese and I want to know who the fuck it was or will tear this place down! I will go room by room and destroy it all, you hear me, family?”

There was silence for a moment, and then Jared’s Mom calmly unzipped Jared’s backpack pocket and pulled out a nicely wrapped chunk of Irish cheddar.

“I put it in your backpack as a surprise since I knew it was the last one.”

Jared stared at the cheese in all its glory as his face turned beet red with embarrassment. Then he gently plucked the dairy product from his mom’s hand.

“I had not thought to check there. Thank you, Mom.” With that, Jared bit into the cheese. “Damn, this is good cheese.”

“That’s going to be your dinner, Son. Apologize and get to your room!” yelled his parents.

“I know. I’m sorry,” said Jared, as he shuffled up the stairs nibbling at his cheese.

“Where did he learn to curse like that?” asked Jared’s Dad.

“Not from us,” said Jared’s Mom.

“Probably the son-of-a-bitch internet,” said Jared’s Sister.

THE END

 

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