V is for Vampire

One of my favorite things about working at the school my kids attend is the chance I get to hear stories firsthand from the adults in the building.  Most these stories fall into one of two categories:

Adam is the best big brother ever

or

Alex thinks he's a vampire

So when the custodian approached me recently and began, "I have the funniest story to tell you about Adam," I figured I knew just where he was headed.

Apparently, my son had stopped him in the hallway.  "Mr. Hayes,"...

[I kept listening, but I was already putting puzzle pieces together.  Adam is not the kind of kid to approach an adult in the hallway and just start talking.]

..."Did you know that if you have a 'V' on your hand, then it means..."

[Again, not typical of my fact-based eldest.  Most humans are born without letters on their hands, and no textbook has ever taught Adam the meaning of wrinkles.]

..."you are a vampire?"

[Clearly, this is a story about Alex.]

I politely interrupted.  "You must mean Alex, my younger son?"

Mr. Hayes nodded, "Yeah, the little one."

Reassured that I did actually know my kids, I listened more intently to the rest of his story.

"Alex asked me to show him my hand.  I showed it to him, and sure enough, the lines on my palm come to a V on each of my hands."

[Go ahead... check... I know I did.  I am only prominently V'd on the right palm.]

Mr. Hayes finished, "Well, then Alex looked right up at me and said,

'I always knew there was something about you!'"