傻孩子 Silly Boy

傻孩子跑遍了福州的大街小巷，想买张明信片寄来。

邮局的人摇摇头：外面买去。

外面的店主不解：明信片？什么东东？
傻孩子耐心地解释，是像贺卡一样的东西。
店主恍然：那玩意儿，早不卖了！
听语气，仿佛对方是来自古代的怪物。

傻孩子于是买了支花跑回邮局：寄这个。
邮局工作人员惊讶地望着他：鲜花不能寄！

傻孩子不解，问我：总是要干，让它在路上干掉和干了再寄有不同吗？


He had covered all roads and streets of Fuzhou in search of a postcard for me, because I adviced that he mails one to me every time he arrives at a new place.

The staff in post office shakes his head: They may sell postcards outside somewhere.

Some shopkeeper outside felt puzzled: Postcard? What's that?

He explained with patience that postcard is a card to write on the back and to mail to someone, like the cards we send in evelopes during the New Year Festival.

The shopkeeper took a tumble: Ah! Got it! But nobody here sells THAT any more.

His tone and expression, said the silly boy, sounds as if I am some wack from ancient time.

My boy bought a beautiful flower, a pink rose, as he perfectly knows that I am a keen plant-lover, and told the postman: I want to mail this.

The postman bulged his eyes: We don't mail fresh flowers!

He was confused and asked me: All flowers wither. Is there any difference whether it withers on the way to you or it withered and then on the way?