The Potato Puppy
By Linda Stafford

My four-year-old son, Shane, had been asking for a puppy for
over a month, but his daddy kept saying, "No dogs! A dog will
dig up the garden and chase the ducks and kill our rabbits. No
dog, and that's final!"

Each night Shane prayed for a puppy, and each morning he
was disappointed when there was no puppy waiting outside.
I was peeling potatoes for dinner, and he was sitting on the
floor at my feet asking for the thousandth time, "Why won't
Daddy let me have a puppy?" "Because they are a lot of trouble.
Don't cry. Maybe Daddy will change his mind someday," I
encouraged him. "No, he won't, and I'll never have a puppy
in a million years," Shane wailed. I looked into his dirty,
tear-streaked face. How could we deny him his one wish?
So I said the words that were first spoken by Eve, "I know a
way to make Daddy change his mind."

"Really?" Shane wiped away his tears and sniffed.
I handed him a potato.

"Take this and carry it with you until it turns into a puppy," I
whispered. "Never let it out of your sight for one minute. Keep
it with you all the time, and on the third day, tie a string around it
and drag it around the yard and see what happens!"
Shane grabbed the potato with both hands. "Mama, how do you
make a potato into a puppy?" He turned it over and over in his
little hands.

"Shh! It's a secret!" I whispered and sent him on his way.
"Lord, you know what a woman must do to keep peace in her
home!" I prayed.

Shane faithfully carried his potato around for two days; he slept
with it, bathed with it and talked to it. On the third day I said to
my husband, "We really should get a pet for Shane."
"What makes you think he needs a pet?" My husband leaned
against the doorway.

"Well, he's been carrying a potato around with him for days. He
calls it Wally and says it is his pet. He sleeps with it on his pillow,
and right now he has a string tied to it and he's dragging it
around the yard," I said.

"A potato?" my husband asked and looked out the window and
watched Shane taking his potato for a walk.

"It will break his heart when the potato gets mushy and rots," I
said and started getting out food for lunch. "Besides, every time I
try to peel potatoes for dinner, Shane cries because he says I'm
killing Wally's family."

"A potato?" my husband asked. "My son has a pet potato?"
"Well," I said shrugging, "you said he couldn't have a puppy. He
was so disappointed, in his mind, he decided he had to have
a pet..." "That's crazy!" my husband said.

"Maybe you're right, but explain to me why he is dragging that
potato around the yard on a string," I said.

My husband watched our son for a few more minutes.
"I'll bring home a puppy tonight. I'll stop by the animal shelter
after work. I guess a puppy can't be that much trouble," he
sighed. "It's better than a potato."

That night Shane's daddy brought home a wiggling puppy
and a pregnant white cat that he took pity on while he was at
the shelter. Everyone was happy. My husband thought he'd
saved his son from a nervous breakdown. Shane had a puppy,
a cat and five kittens and believed his mother had magic powers
that could change a potato into a puppy. And I was happy
because I got my potato back and cooked it for dinner.
Everything was perfect until one evening when I was cooking
dinner, Shane tugged on my dress and asked, "Mama, do you
think I could have a pony for my birthday?"

I looked into his sweet little face and said, "Well, first we have
to take a watermelon..."

:san42: Thats lovely & funny at the same time.

:2445:

awwww lol thats sooo sweet lol