Erik and Stephen are enjoying some Bazooka Joe bubble gum and milking the last few minutes out of recess.

Erik: What exactly ARE cooties?

Stephen: You know, I'm not sure.

Erik: I don't think anyone is. I've been asking around.

Stephen: So, why are we so afraid of them?

Erik: Good question. Maybe we shouldn't be.

Stephen: Maybe not. From now on, cooties won't stop us!

Erik: Excellent. Soooo you think that guy from The Wiggles is gay?

Stephen: Absolutely.

Erik: I didn't say which one.

Stephen just stares at Erik.

Erik: Good point.

Stephen: Want to go play dodgeball?

Erik: Can't. I totally tweaked my hammy. We were playing "duck duck goose" and I wasn't ready for the goose.

Stephen: Been there, my friend. It's important to always stretch.

Erik: This never happened when I was four.

Stephen: We are getting older. Don't sweat it. I'm a little tired anyway.

Erik: Didn't sleep well?

Stephen: Nope. Monsters again.

Erik: I hate them! Under the bed or in the closet?

Stephen: The bed.

Erik: They are the worst! Very sneaky. Last week I had some tapping on my window and then turning into tree branches.

Stephen: Diabolical!

Erik: We can go pull Siobhan's pigtails.

Stephen: I could go for that.

Erik: Cool -- Oh wait. I heard through the grapevine that she has cooties.

A few moments of silence.

Stephen: Sucks to that. I can't take the chance.

Erik: Good point. Want a pudding cup?

Stephen: Don't mind if I do.

Labels: cooties, short fiction, writing with the flu