The Troll

I so wish that this was my story to tell. It isn't, but I can not, in sound mind, not pass this along for your reading enjoyment. If you haven't peed lately, go pee before reading on.

A co-worker's friend has a son with Downs Syndrome. He's 30 years old and stays home alone during the days while his parents are at work. One afternoon, the son called his mom at work, explaining that there was a troll walking around the neighborhood. What should he do?

The Mom didn't really know what he was talking about and told him to stay inside with the door closed and he'd be fine. 30 minutes later, son calls Mom again. "Mom, don't worry. I caught the troll and he's in the closet." Mom hears a ruckus in the background, rushes out the door and heads for home to investigate what's happening.

Mom walks into her home and her son unveils the troll that he has been holding hostage. The troll happened to be a "little person" hired to go door to door for the recent census polling. The son figured this short little man was a troll and needed to be captured. And so he did just that.

I don't know if he chased him around the neighborhood or waited until the man knocked on his door, but regardless, there had to have been a struggle. Mom spent quite a bit of time apologizing and making sure that the little person wouldn't press charges against her son. He didn't. But I can imaging this man is still a bit traumatized by the happenings of that neighborhood assignment.

Not funny for the little person, but SO freaking funny all at the same time, right?