What’s In the Paper Bag?

                I sat at the kitchen table eating my Captain Crunch and drinking a glass of milk. My mom and Dad look at me as being strange for not putting my milk in with the cereal.

            Dad walks into the kitchen with a brown paper bag in tow and puts it on the table. Mom says, “I see you went to the grocery store.”

            “That I did.”

            “So Dad, what’s in the bag,” I asked.

            “Nothing of much importance.”

            “So what is” not much importance?”

            “Why are you so fascinated with what’s in a simple paper bag?”

            “If the bag is of” not much importance then why do you not let me know what’s in it?” I asked.

            “Some things in a young boy’s life are better left not knowing.”

            “Not knowing? If I don’t ask questions, how will I learn?”

            “You can always learn, but keep in mind you don’t need to know everything while you are still young.”

            “What does being young have to do with what is in a paper bag?”

            “Trust me, you do not want to know what not much importance is in that bag at your young age.”

            “Dad, it’s not like there’s a monster in the bag,” I said as I smiled at him.

            “Joey, it’s not the fact that there is no monster. It’s what the item in the bag represents. When I was your age my father had a similar conversation like the one where having.”

            “Ok, go on,” I pushed.

            “You see, when I was a young boy, my mother asked my father to go to the store and pick something up. The item my mother asked him to pick up at the drug store at the time was always placed in a paper bag. When my father returned with said paper bag he gave it to my mother happily. I, like you, then asked what was in the paper bag. My father asked me if I was sure I wanted to know. I informed him that I was sure. My father said, “Ok then,” and told me what was in the bag. My jaw hit the floor in shock after he told me what was in the bag. At that point I decided to save my own son the horror of knowing what was in the brown paper bag until he was of age.”

            “So I guess I’m not of age,” I said.

            “You got it kid.”

            Just then, my older sister Elizabeth, looking like the walking dead dressed in what she called Goth, came into the kitchen. I looked at her as if she was celebrating Halloween. Elizabeth walked up to the kitchen table and grabbed the bag and asked Dad, “Is this what I’ve been waiting for?”

            “Yes,” Dad said as he smiled at my sister.

            “Thanks for getting me my Tampons, Dad.”

            I smiled at Dad and asked, “Dad, what’s a tampon?”

            “Joey, just eat your cereal.”