Red

Ned remembered that certain New Year's, so long ago, when he learned a very important, lasting life instruction, a big lesson, never forgotten. After all, seven years old, by design is not the wisest time in one's new existence.

It was New Year's morning, early, the Leimert Park apartments were still asleep, Ned's friends were nowhere. Bored, he took a stroll down the long alley behind his building, didn't matter which direction. Alleys are always scavenger paths. There's always something interesting to see or find around everyone's trash cans.

Walking along, Ned soon spotted a tiny glass bottle, red, it was lady's nail polish. Of course, every lad's a painter, so he unscrewed the crusty cap, trying the brush out on the side of a can. Brightest blood red color, didn't take Ned long to dab a dot on his arm, and notice how real it looked.

That's precisely when Ned got his most unfortunate idea. He painted a long swath of the gash red nail polish down his forearm, waiting a minute for drying. Then, Ned ran back around the building and upstairs to his front door. Inside, he yelled for his mom, knowing his dad was in a far bedroom still ssleep. As his mom walked out of the kitchen wiping her hands on her apron, Ned blurted out, "Mom, look!", thrusting out his bloody-looking forearm.

His mom screamed in terror and nearly stumbled, which scared Ned half to death. Before he could even start to explain, his dad came stomping down the hallway pulling up his pants.

It wasn't a seven-year old's very best moment, and after some serious shouting, everyone calmed down again. The most important lesson? Why, there's simply no good day in a boy's entire lifetime to ever fool mom. Including New Year's Day.