the noodle incident

(names changed)

Child appeared at my desk.
"Shawn left his noodle outside."
"His... noodle?"
"Yeah. And he ran away."
He led me outside. On the sidewalk was a sad pile of instant noodles. Kids gathered around it with wide, scandalized eyes.
"Oh, you meant actual noodles."
"Yeah. He got them from the store and then they were hot and he was throwing them and John smacked them and they burned him and they fell and then they were like, auuuugh, and both ran over the hill that way." The kids all pointed.
I got a wad of paper towels and scooped up the soggy mass of ramen. "Wait, was he throwing the noodles, or did someone throw them at him?"
"He was throwing noodles at John and going HWUP HWUP with the cup and then John went PAP and they flew up and burned Shawn's arm and he dropped them and John ate some of them off the ground and said, 'see? Still good,' and then they ran away real fast, laughing."
"Oh my." I poured water on the bits of broth and freeze-dried carrots.
"What will happen if they come back?" The kids looked keen, hoping for blood.
"Well, then they will be hungry."
"Yeah, 'cause John might want to finish them." Someone high-fived the kid.

At just about this time, Officer Library Frequenter detected that my co-worker had a rotisserie chicken in the fridge. His chicken senses are uncanny. I came back to wash noodles off my hands and found him carving legs and thighs onto a paper plate. "Hey!" He jumped, but didn't stop sawing. "When you pass those kids outside, make sure you mutter something about noodles. They'll think I called the cops."

And he did. There were shrieks, and the sound of sneakers running.

I was still grinning about this noodle business when I went to stamp a patron's book. She tilted her head at my cardigan.
"Is that the new style?"
I looked down and realized it was buttoned crookedly. "That is the cold and hasty style."
"Honey, that's what happens when you hit 65."
Recently, I had mentioned my creaky knees, and a patron patted me in commiseration, "That's how it is after 40, sweetie."
I need to trowel on more makeup, I think.