By Matthew Sanborn Smith
Babies have about three-hundred bones when they pop out. Adults have about two-hundred and six. The obvious question, and the one I’m most often asked (Even though I’m a plumber and not a boneologist, but, hey, life is funny sometimes) is, “What becomes of all those excess bones?” The truth is, a variety of things.
Firstly, the two big stomach bones are vomited up within the first three months. It’s not widely known, because when people see two big bile-soaked bones on the floor near the crib, the last thing anyone thinks is, “That must have come from the baby.”
Bone pickers come at night, creeping in through bedroom windows across America to remove the ear bones while our babies are sleeping. They then sell them to restaurants which use them for soup. This explains the redness in the morning and why foreigners have such bony ears.
The nostril bones are generally sneezed out by the end of the first year and often find a second life as fairy anklets. The brain bones dissolve in the elementary years, when cursive writing is learned. This extra space is needed though, for driver’s education. It is a documented fact that no human being was able to drive a car before cursive writing was invented.
The liver bone never goes anywhere special, a fact her husband is reminded of on a weekly basis. She’s simply forgotten. Ask your doctor if he’s ever checked a liver for a bone. See if you don’t get a funny look.
I’m sure you think I’m making this up, but let me ask you, how could your heart break if there wasn’t a bone in it? I’m sorry I had to bring that up, I know you don’t like to talk about it. You wouldn’t be able to cry like that either, if the doctor hadn’t shattered your eye bones with the first slap. You bawled them out and there was so much general muck coming off of you at the time, no one noticed a little more. Stop it already. Come here.
Give me a hug.