Bad Finger

Driving the kids home from soccer practice the other evening, my son asked me, "Dad, what do you call this finger?"

He was looking curiously at his index finder.

"That's your index finger," I said, "or, maybe it's your trigger finger."

"Index finger?" he asked, confused, "I thought it was your pointer finger."

"Yeah, you can call it a pointer finger."

"Dad?" he asked again, this time holding his right middle finger between his left thumb and fingers. He was looking at it with some serious hesitation. "Dad, what do you call this finger?"

"Oh, that's your middle finger." I said.

"I, uh," he began, "I thought it was your bad finger."

Keeping my eyes on the road, and struggling to keep a straight face, I asked, "Well, where did you hear that?"

"My friend at school told me it was called your bad finger. She's just always messing with her bad finger because she knows it's bad."

This was really difficult. I really wanted to laugh. My jaw tingled. I was not sure if I could get a word out without laughing. So, for a moment, I was silent.

"Dad?" he began again, "What kind of bad stuff can you do with your bad finger?"

I couldn't help it. I laughed. After that, I laughed some more. 

It was time to explain. I had to inform my boy that in this world there were such things as hand gestures with meanings that were negative or positive or meaningless based on culture. I never taught him to flip someone the bird, as we used to say.

He was appeased. I kept thinking about his question. I remember Tom Waits in Rumble Fish, giving someone the finger by turning an imaginary crank or reel, he slowly brought his bad finger up full-staff. I remember thinking that was so clever when I was a kid. Now it seems akin to this young lady in my son's class fiddling with her middle finger just because she knows it's bad. 

I told my wife; she laughed. From time to time, in the car, or at supper, or maybe while we're doing dishes, I will look over at her and she, with heavy lidded eyes and a suggestive expression, will be slyly touching the middle finger of her right hand with thumb and finger of her left. I laugh every time.

When I was my son's age, I had no idea there was a bad finger; but we did play a game called "The Finger" - pronounced: "The Fiiiiiingaaaaaah" in an Vaudevillian Count Dracula voice. In this game, my little sister, would chase my cousins and I around our house of my Grandma's. She would run around with her index - let's say "pointer" - finger sticking out like E.T.'s glowy one or a knight's couched lance. If she poked you you were out. It seems odd now, but I don't think anyone else was ever "it" as in tag or hide and seek. My poor Sis, always the bad finger.

Hey, that reminds me, she got married yesterday. Congrats, Sister. If I could see you, I would give you the thumbs up.