Not the Kidneys!

“No, Puck. No more candy this week. We’re going to have to get rid of it. Too much.”

Puck stared – a little wide-eyed – at me. Sure, I had only let him have one piece from the whole bag of trick-or-treat goodness since Friday night. But any more than one piece somehow seemed like too much in my opinion. School, early mornings, cold/flu season, etc., etc. A mom’s guilty conscience.

“Just too much candy,” I reiterated.

“Mom! I didn’t collect all that candy for nuffin’!”

Puck had clearly been ornery at school. I could tell as soon as I picked him up. You win some days, you lose some days.

On the drive home, his attitude had adjusted.

“What does that sign say?” he asked as we flashed past a billboard.

Written in the dust of a car’s windshield: DONATE ME.

“Donate me? Why?”

“Well, sometimes people donate cars to that foundation. And then they can re-sell the cars and use the money to help people who need new kidneys.”

“NEW KIDNEYS?” Puck’s eyes suddenly grew wide in the rearview mirror.

“People sometimes need help with their kidneys. Some people even donate their kidneys to help other people who need new kidneys.”

The whites of his eyes were growing by the second. “WHY?!”

“If someone doesn’t have at least one kidney, he dies.”

“I would NEVER donate my kidney.”

“Not even if it would save someone’s life?”

Terror. It was escalating quickly.

“But! But!” Puck clutched at his neck. “Kidneys are in your throat!”

“No, honey. They’re not in your throat. Don’t worry. It’s very rare for people to donate kidneys. No one would ever make you donate a kidney.”

His eyes were watering now. The tears were about to flow. I had to make this funny. Fast.

“You know what kidneys do, right?”

“No…”

“They clean urine out of the body.”

“Really! Ah ha ha ha ha ha!”

Mission accomplished.

After homework, Puck played in piles of dried leaves with the neighbor girls a couple of houses down the street before a soft taco dinner, windows open to dark night breezes, and Andy Griffith.

El Oso pulled back home two and a half hours later with bundles of fresh Colombian flowers.

My boys.