Three heads aren’t enough. You need a great many heads for head soup. What they don’t tell you is that heads don’t have nearly as much meat as they seem. Once you shave them (the hair is no good) and take off the jewelry, and dispose of the skull – all but one of them, for a soup bone – you’re left with a certain amount of liquid and not that much solid meat. The cheeks are good but the eyes are an acquired taste, and you can’t use much more really than the brain and the tongue. It’s the brain that’s where you get most of your nutrition. You learn that early. And you also learn how many heads it takes to feed a troop of growing boys and girls before their nap time.
The day-care business is tough. They scream. They cry, of course. They wet themselves. They sometimes do other things. They fight. But the worst thing they do happens when you don’t feed them properly. They start harvesting their own heads, and then you’ve got trouble. First, they don’t know how to do it right. You can’t just go pulling them off willy nilly, like the skin of an egg. There’s aesthetics, not that these brats know anything about that – most of their parents don’t either. But frankly, it messes up the heads. It’s the same principle as cleaning a fish – you just go smash one and then try to clean it after that. It’s a mess, and not a good mess – not like when you tear into a watermelon.
Then there’s the fact that they’re none too choosey about which heads they’re yanking on. They get confused – poor things – and get each other’s heads in their mouths, or worse, one of the staff – and like ill-mannered little terriers they start trying to eat them raw. We do need to cut down on staff. Lost one last week, and no one cried about it. She was terrible – always leaving the blankets on the floor, never picking up after the little dears, and she complained all the time about it not being enough pay. Well, if they were hungry, and didn’t get their snack on time, it was her fault. Could have told her it might work out like that, but sometimes it’s best to let the new ones learn on their own. This ain’t no kindergarten.
Three heads just aren’t enough, and the problem is there just aren’t any more applicants today. Or beggars. Or volunteers. We especially like the volunteers – soft, tender hearted souls usually have the softest, tenderest heads to go with them. And you can really only grab a delivery person maybe once a year or so, now they’ve got those GPS systems in so many of the trucks. It’s a damned shame, too. They get on your nerves when they’re late, because let’s say you’re out of training pants or diapers or God-forbid those little goldfish crackers. You’ve just got utter chaos on your hands, then.
No, can’t mess with UPS. We’ve got to hope that one of the little buggers goes home sick this morning. Sometimes, that’s the best way, when there’s not enough to go around. We could really use at least two more heads, though. It’d be sparse no matter what, with just Larry, Moe, and Curly here. Toss their animal crackers right in your face, they will – like they’re going to be satisfied just biting tops off of those. And if the kiddoes are agitated, they don’t sleep as easy, so it’s just more work to make them forget.
Don’t look at me so strange, then. I’ve already explained it to you. Three heads aren’t enough. Even yours, lovely as it is dear, will hardly provide enough for that rampant lot. Look at the way they’re tossing toys around. They’re getting hungry, you can tell. You just have to understand, they’re growing all the time and their bones need flesh. Now don’t worry, I’ve done this lots of times, and it won’t hurt a bit. Just close your eyes and don’t hold your breath.