Dewey Fairchild, Parent Problem Solver - FIRST LOOK

Dewey Fairchild, Parent Problem Solver

 

Dewey Picks a Tough Case

 

Pages 150-156

 

 

Tommy’s mom yells too much; Georgina’s dad picks his nose in public; Ken’s parents force him to play the piano and practice all the time. Dewey had promised poor Georgina he’d pick her case first. “Get it, Clara?! I’m picking her case first!” Dewey amused himself, but he had to admit, having a public nose picker for a father pretty much nosed ahead of other people’s problems.

 

When he finally got around to her paperwork, he saw it wasn’t just about nose picking but also loud public burping.

 

“He thinks just because he says ‘excuse me’ that it’s OK to burp like that. I don’t think he really realizes when he’s picking his nose though,” Georgina clarified when they met.

 

Having Georgina as a client represented just how far-reaching Dewey’s reputation had spread. Georgina attended a private school down the street from where Dewey and his friends attended school. She wasn’t a stranger to them, as they’d all been together on the preschool circuit, but it had been years.

 

“I think we should tackle one issue at a time here,” began Dewey. “Let’s start with the belching, and then we’ll move on to the nose picking.” Somehow, that felt more doable.

 

Georgina began to squirm a bit in her cushion, blushing at the mention of the nose picking.

 

Clara keyed right into her discomfort and took the opportunity to pass around her newest invention: cookie dough cookies. They were baked cookies with chunks of cookie dough in them.

 

She had two varieties, crunchy and chewy, and since these were prototypes, she handed out both and asked Dewey and Georgina’s opinions. This distraction, Clara reasoned, would help take some pressure off of poor Georgina as she answered the tough questions.

 

“So, what kinds of places or situations does he tend to burp?” asked Dewey.

 

“Cookie?” asked Clara.

 

“Yes, please. Thank you. Well, I guess for sure at our kitchen table. And that always makes my mom mad. My brother seems to think it’s funny, but I hate it, too.”

 

“Where else?” asked Dewey, taking notes.

 

“Well, he’ll also do it at a restaurant, which is bad because people turn in their seats and look. Or, say, at a baseball game. Or wherever there’s food, really. He eats, he burps. He drinks, he burps. And they are loud! And long ones! It’s really bad. Sometimes they even, um, smell.” She wriggled around in her seat again.

 

“How did you enjoy that cookie?” asked Clara. “That was the crunchy one. I’m going to get you the chewy ones soon, but they have to come out of the oven.”

 

“OK . . . and now, the nose picking?” continued Dewey.

 

“Uugh. It’s the worst. He doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it. It’s always while he has some faraway look on his face, and then, before you know it, he is working his fat finger into that hole like . . . like . . . like Winnie the Pooh trying wriggle himself into Rabbit’s hole for honey.” Georgina voice got bizarrely loud as she said “for honey,” as if she were yelling it across the room.

 

“Hey, that’s funny! Pooh Bear is my sister’s name. Well, nickname.”

 

“What? Really! That’s really weird. Sorry! No offense intended,” Georgina reddened.

 

“Ha! None taken,” Dewey reassured. “So, when would you say this excavation most often occurs?” asked Dewey, scribbling as quickly as he could in his notebook.

 

“Well, let’s see. Driving. Watching TV or out at a movie. Sometimes, if my grandma starts going on and on about something, he’ll just start up then, too.”

 

“Now I know this last bit of information may seem graphic and insensitive, and I am sorry in advance, but if you can tell me, it will save a lot of stakeout time and let us get started a lot quicker. Do you know what he does with the boogers? I mean, he doesn’t eat them, does he?”

 

“The chewy cookies are hot out of the oven and ready for you to try!” sang Clara with delight, handing them each a small plate with two cookie dough cookies on it and a mini glass of cold milk.
  Dewey rolled his eyes. Timing, Clara! Timing!

 

In fact, the timing proved to be good and so did the cookies. They both agreed that they liked the cookie dough chunks in the crunchy cookie better.

 

Georgina admitted that she didn’t know what her dad did with the boogers, because as soon as his finger started doing its crawl, she looked the other way. But she sure feared that others did not, and that’s why she’d come for help—that, and because their dinner table sounded a lot like a beached elephant seal sat with them.

 

Dewey shook Georgina’s hand and then so did Clara.

 

“Don’t worry, Georgina. We’ll crack this case or my name isn’t Dewey Fairchild,” and out Georgina went the way she came, a little more hopeful and a lot more satiated.

 

Clara looked over at Dewey and gave him a wink. “Boogers and burps, eh? Well, eat slugs! This case ought to be fun, Boss.”

 

“Yeah. You sure can pick ’em, Clara,” he wisecracked as he walked out.

 

“Ah ha ha ha ha ha! Oh, pick ’em. Yeah. I get it. Pick ’em!”

 

Wolfie just rolled over for a belly rub, and if she wasn’t mistaken, let out a “BUUURRRP.”

 


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