Mrs. Jones had just given birth to a baby boy. Mr. Jones was very happy. He hugged his wife in her hospital bed. Their happy smiles turned into worried frowns, though, when their doctor walked in. He had such a serious look on his face!
“Is there a problem, doctor?” asked Mr. Jones.
“I am afraid so,” said the sad-looking doctor. “There’s no easy way to tell you this. I’m just going to say it straight. Your baby boy is flat.”
“Flat?” asked Mrs. Jones. “You mean he has flat feet, or a flat nose?”
“No, Mrs. Jones,” answered the doctor. “He’s completely flat. Like a gingerbread man, only flatter. Why, he’s no thicker than a piece of paper.”
“He didn’t get that from my side of the family!” said a flustered Mrs. Jones.
“Are you sure?” asked Mr. Jones. “I always thought your grandmother was very thin.”
“Listen, you two,” interrupted the doctor. “It’s nobody’s fault. You’re just going to have to make the best of it. Raising a flat boy won’t be easy.”
“What problems will we have?” asked Mrs. Jones.
“Well, mostly you’ll have to be very, very careful with him,” answered the doctor. Don’t let him be bent, folded, or stapled. Be extremely cautious taking him outside on a windy day. That sort of thing.”
The boy’s parents took him home. After their shock wore off, they grew to love him. They named him Willie. But everybody else just called him Flatboy.
Flatboy’s parents took care of him the best way they knew how. After a lot of trial and error, they figured out how to make flat little clothes for him—like a paper doll.