Little Justin was the epitome of cuteness wrapped in the body of a four-year-old boy. The problem was, he was just too cute. It wasn’t so much the day-to-day living, as it was special functions. Like church.
Come Sunday morning, all the older ladies of the church would just carry on about Justin’s cuteness, and before he could get away from them, they would grab his cheek betwixt the index finger and the thumb, and give it a pinch. Sometimes they would add a little shaking motion, like a pit bull latched on to a chew toy. It left his cheeks rosy and numb. The pinching was especially bad at weddings. There are even more old women at weddings than there are at church on Sunday. As each one pinched his little cheeks, they’d say “You’re next!”
Well, Justin finally discovered a way to get the old women to leave his cheeks alone. Whenever he’d go to a funeral, he’d seek out the older women. He’d run up to them, grab their cheeks, and pinch it with a solid twist, look them right in the eye, smile and say, “You’re next!”
The old ladies never bothered Justin after that.
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