The Tenth Rangoon
Sometimes there is no clean split.
“The crab rangoons from the good Chinese place come in tens.”
Allie raised an eyebrow. I don’t know any other six-year-olds who can do that. “I’m allergic. Did you forget? Not exactly father of the year.”
I pressed on. “Three rangoons for your mum, three for me, three for your brother. There’s one rangoon left over, and your mum always gets it.”
I put my hand on her shoulder. “Allie. I want that last rangoon.”
“Why don’t you just buy more?”
“Twenty rangoons is too many.”
She eyed me cooly. “What’s in it for me?”
“What do you want?”
“You know what I want. I want the spicy noodles.”
“Those are too spicy for you. You’re too young.”
“That’s what mum always says. If she’s right about the noodles maybe she’s also right about rangoon distribution.”
She had me cornered.
“Fine. You’ll get your spicy noodles. Just don’t come crying to me the day after.”
“What happens the day after?”
“Guess you’ll find out. How do we do this?”
Allie exhaled slowly, looking at the ceiling. “If you want to steal milk you don’t break into the farmer’s barn with a bucket.”
She smiled.
“You take the whole damn cow.”
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Comments (5)
So what are you saying? Eat one & only bring nine home? Keep all of them for yourself & bring home something else? Surely not tell her she looks like she's putting on weight?!
This is one of my favorite heist entries so far! So funny and adorable. Well done.
Got to love a savvy six year old. Well done!
Completely felt like I was right there watching the two of them go through this little dance. I loved it. What a cheeky little kid! Smart too!
😅 What an unusual lesson that makes absolute sense. It shows where conversations can lead. I enjoyed this take on the challenge.