Post by ashigak on May 30, 2007 13:27:49 GMT
A day before his 15th birthday, the son of a wealthy family was asked by
his father, `Well my son, what would you like for your birthday?'
The son hesitated a moment and his father's thoughts leapt ahead to a new
computer and similar things. However, his son had had a new computer only
recently and could have a new one any time he wished.
Finally, the son said, `Father, I have everything a boy could wish for,
but there is one thing I would really like. I would love to have a pink
ping pong ball.'
The father was rather astonished at this wish, but said, `If it is a pink
ping pong ball that you want, a pink ping pong ball you shall have.'
And so, the next day, the son was given as his bithday present a pink ping
pong ball.
The boy took the ball to his room and the next morning the pink ping pong
ball was gone. The father was mildly surprised but decided not to say
anything. The pink ping pong ball, however, was never seen again.
The next year, a day before his 16th birthday, the father asked his son
what he would like for his birthday.
`Father,' replied the son, `I have everything a boy could possibly wish
for, but there is one thing I would really, really like. I would love to
have a tenpack of pink ping pong balls.'
The father was more surprised than the year before, but kept his curiosity
at bay, for he knew that his son had a right for privacy. he said
therefore, `If it is a tenpack of pink ping pong balls that you want, a
tenpack of pink ping pong balls you shall have.'
And so, the next day, the son was given as his birthday present a tenpack
of pink ping pong balls.
The boy took the tenpack of balls to his room and the next morning, not a
single ball remained, merely the empty husk of the tenpack. The father
wondered where ten pink ping pong balls might disappear to, but decided
not to say anything. The pink ping pong balls, however, were never seen
again.
The next year, a day before his 17th birthday, the son was asked by his
father what he would like for his birthday.
`Father,' said the son to this, `I have everything a boy could wish for,
but one thing would make my happiness complete. I would dearly want a
carton of pink ping pong balls.'
The father was beyond surprise, but decided to make sure he had not
misheard. `A carton of pink ping pong balls?'
`A carton of pink ping pong balls,' the boy confirmed.
`I can't understand your fascination with pink ping pong balls,' said the
father, `but if it is a carton of pink ping pong balls that you want, it
is a carton of pink ping pong balls that you shall have.'
And so, the next day, the boy was given as his birthday present a carton
of pink ping pong balls.
The boy was delighted and took the carton to his room. The next day,
miraculously (as if by magic, even) the pink ping pong balls had all
disappeared.
`Dear son,' said the father, `I must ask now, what do you do with all
those pink ping pong balls?'
The son, however, was reluctant to tell him. `Please humour me, dear
father.'
The carton of pink ping pong balls, however, was never seen again.
The next year, it was clear that the son would get a car, but the father
felt that, perhaps, his son also had some other wish apart from the
obvious. So, one day before the son's 18th birthday, the father asked him
whether he had a special wish for his birthday.
`Dearest father,' the son started, `I have everything a young man could
possibly want, but there is one craving in me. I would, more than
anything, want a warehouse full of pink ping pong balls.'
One of these years, his father thought, I should get to the bottom of
this. However, he decided to humour his son's wish. At least he had been
wise enough to buy shares in a pink ping pong ball factory.
The next day, the son was given the address of a warehouse where all his
new pink ping pong balls were stored. The son was delighted and decided to
spend the next night in the warehouse rather than at home.
The following morning, the son stepped out of the warehouse, but it seemed
to be empty otherwise. The father had a closer look and indeed, apart from
empty cardboard boxes, nothing was left inside the warehouse. No pink ping
pong balls were left.
The following year, one day before the son's 19th birthday, the father
braced himself for another warehouse of pink ping pong balls. He asked his
son what his deepest desire was and he had not been entirely wrong.
`Father, you have made me very happy these last years and this year I ask
of you a shipload of pink ping pong balls if at all possible.'
It was possible, if only because the father had by now bought each and
every factory of pink ping pong balls in the country.
The next day, the father took his son to the harbour and showed him a huge
tanker and told his son that there were millions, billions, trillions of
pink ping pong balls in there.
`Father,' the son said, `You've made me very happy yet again.'
That night, the son spent on board the tanker.
The next morning, not a single of the pink ping pong balls could be found,
but the son was happy.
A few days before his 20th birthday, however, the son had a terrible road
accident and was taken to the hospital.
His father visited the young man in hospital. `My dear son! Can I bring
you anything to make you feel better?'
Weakly, the son sat up in bed. `Father, dearest father, grant me this
wish; just one tenpack of pink ping pong balls.'
The father held his son's hand tightly. `Whatever you wish my son, but I
have to give you one condition. Even if it may be embarrassing, I must
know what you did with all those pink ping pong balls.'
`Very well, father, but please indulge me first. I will tell you whatever
you wish to know after you have given me the ten pink ping pong balls.'
The father thought that was fair enough and the next day brought his son
the ten asked for pink ping pong balls. The son smiled weakly but seemed
too weak to talk.
`Son, I leave these pink ping pong balls with you and shall come back
tomorrow to ask of you what you have done with all those pink ping pong
balls.'
The son nodded weakly.
The next day, less than surprisingly, no pink ping pong balls could be
found in the son's hospital room.
`Now, my dearest son, apple of my eye, treasure of my life, please tell me
what you did with all those pink ping pong balls,' the father requested.
The son nodded and the father gripped his hand tighter.
`I-' the son started and sat up a bit, swallowing with a dry mouth.
`I- I-'
Then he died.
his father, `Well my son, what would you like for your birthday?'
The son hesitated a moment and his father's thoughts leapt ahead to a new
computer and similar things. However, his son had had a new computer only
recently and could have a new one any time he wished.
Finally, the son said, `Father, I have everything a boy could wish for,
but there is one thing I would really like. I would love to have a pink
ping pong ball.'
The father was rather astonished at this wish, but said, `If it is a pink
ping pong ball that you want, a pink ping pong ball you shall have.'
And so, the next day, the son was given as his bithday present a pink ping
pong ball.
The boy took the ball to his room and the next morning the pink ping pong
ball was gone. The father was mildly surprised but decided not to say
anything. The pink ping pong ball, however, was never seen again.
The next year, a day before his 16th birthday, the father asked his son
what he would like for his birthday.
`Father,' replied the son, `I have everything a boy could possibly wish
for, but there is one thing I would really, really like. I would love to
have a tenpack of pink ping pong balls.'
The father was more surprised than the year before, but kept his curiosity
at bay, for he knew that his son had a right for privacy. he said
therefore, `If it is a tenpack of pink ping pong balls that you want, a
tenpack of pink ping pong balls you shall have.'
And so, the next day, the son was given as his birthday present a tenpack
of pink ping pong balls.
The boy took the tenpack of balls to his room and the next morning, not a
single ball remained, merely the empty husk of the tenpack. The father
wondered where ten pink ping pong balls might disappear to, but decided
not to say anything. The pink ping pong balls, however, were never seen
again.
The next year, a day before his 17th birthday, the son was asked by his
father what he would like for his birthday.
`Father,' said the son to this, `I have everything a boy could wish for,
but one thing would make my happiness complete. I would dearly want a
carton of pink ping pong balls.'
The father was beyond surprise, but decided to make sure he had not
misheard. `A carton of pink ping pong balls?'
`A carton of pink ping pong balls,' the boy confirmed.
`I can't understand your fascination with pink ping pong balls,' said the
father, `but if it is a carton of pink ping pong balls that you want, it
is a carton of pink ping pong balls that you shall have.'
And so, the next day, the boy was given as his birthday present a carton
of pink ping pong balls.
The boy was delighted and took the carton to his room. The next day,
miraculously (as if by magic, even) the pink ping pong balls had all
disappeared.
`Dear son,' said the father, `I must ask now, what do you do with all
those pink ping pong balls?'
The son, however, was reluctant to tell him. `Please humour me, dear
father.'
The carton of pink ping pong balls, however, was never seen again.
The next year, it was clear that the son would get a car, but the father
felt that, perhaps, his son also had some other wish apart from the
obvious. So, one day before the son's 18th birthday, the father asked him
whether he had a special wish for his birthday.
`Dearest father,' the son started, `I have everything a young man could
possibly want, but there is one craving in me. I would, more than
anything, want a warehouse full of pink ping pong balls.'
One of these years, his father thought, I should get to the bottom of
this. However, he decided to humour his son's wish. At least he had been
wise enough to buy shares in a pink ping pong ball factory.
The next day, the son was given the address of a warehouse where all his
new pink ping pong balls were stored. The son was delighted and decided to
spend the next night in the warehouse rather than at home.
The following morning, the son stepped out of the warehouse, but it seemed
to be empty otherwise. The father had a closer look and indeed, apart from
empty cardboard boxes, nothing was left inside the warehouse. No pink ping
pong balls were left.
The following year, one day before the son's 19th birthday, the father
braced himself for another warehouse of pink ping pong balls. He asked his
son what his deepest desire was and he had not been entirely wrong.
`Father, you have made me very happy these last years and this year I ask
of you a shipload of pink ping pong balls if at all possible.'
It was possible, if only because the father had by now bought each and
every factory of pink ping pong balls in the country.
The next day, the father took his son to the harbour and showed him a huge
tanker and told his son that there were millions, billions, trillions of
pink ping pong balls in there.
`Father,' the son said, `You've made me very happy yet again.'
That night, the son spent on board the tanker.
The next morning, not a single of the pink ping pong balls could be found,
but the son was happy.
A few days before his 20th birthday, however, the son had a terrible road
accident and was taken to the hospital.
His father visited the young man in hospital. `My dear son! Can I bring
you anything to make you feel better?'
Weakly, the son sat up in bed. `Father, dearest father, grant me this
wish; just one tenpack of pink ping pong balls.'
The father held his son's hand tightly. `Whatever you wish my son, but I
have to give you one condition. Even if it may be embarrassing, I must
know what you did with all those pink ping pong balls.'
`Very well, father, but please indulge me first. I will tell you whatever
you wish to know after you have given me the ten pink ping pong balls.'
The father thought that was fair enough and the next day brought his son
the ten asked for pink ping pong balls. The son smiled weakly but seemed
too weak to talk.
`Son, I leave these pink ping pong balls with you and shall come back
tomorrow to ask of you what you have done with all those pink ping pong
balls.'
The son nodded weakly.
The next day, less than surprisingly, no pink ping pong balls could be
found in the son's hospital room.
`Now, my dearest son, apple of my eye, treasure of my life, please tell me
what you did with all those pink ping pong balls,' the father requested.
The son nodded and the father gripped his hand tighter.
`I-' the son started and sat up a bit, swallowing with a dry mouth.
`I- I-'
Then he died.