Four Crying Out Loud

It was like a 1lb. bag of animal crackers and a box of butter mints were the "admission" price to get to spend time with the toddler.  Paw-Paw would have them ready, exchanging them for hugs and the chance to sit and watch the boy move about his living room, picking things up, throwing things down; rearranging any organization he had to the place.  The baby would take every magnet off the refrigerator and move them all into a clump in one spot.  Half of the magnets were holding up pictures of the baby; in Halloween costumes, in swimmies at a pool, or petting animals at the zoo.  The baby especially loved to press the tea kettle magnet, look at his Paw-Paw with a toothy grin and squeal when it whistled.  You could have stopped the clock for the man, he would have been more than grateful to live the rest of his life in that moment. Paw-Paw soaked up the limited time he had with him, not knowing when he would see the baby again.  After an hour visit in ...

Difficult children exist.  I have one and I know of a few others out there.  The hands of the parents of these special children should be on display at science museums, just like the old smokey lung is.  Instead of talking about how many cigarettes that person smoked, people would stare at the red, worn out hand and wonder how many whippings it had to execute. If you poke holes in the bananas at the grocery, I'm going to bust your tail.  If you spit on the playground swings, I'm going to bust your tail.  If you crush a handful of goldfish crackers and sprinkle them on the kneelers at church, I'm going to...pick you up gently, brush you off, and offer you some fruit snacks and the closest crayon I can find. All public places are fair game for a spanking, except church.   That's where I have to draw the line.  There seems to be something so wrong about saying "Peace Be With You" then hauling off and wailing on ...

Sometimes I laugh at myself when I think back to my perceptions of the world as a child; the way I saw certain situations or people.  What was I thinking?  It wasn't really like I saw it at all.  When I was younger, I visited my father in Cincinnati during the weekends.  He made certain that the visit was action-packed, full of trips to the zoo, museums, Graeter's Ice Cream stores, and antique shops.  During one visit with him, he told me that he had moved to a new apartment; although he referred to it as The Carriage House.  Dad explained to me that his new apartment was essentially the place where horse carriages were once stored.  I was uneasy with this idea.  Why was my father living in a horse stable?  We drove through an old Cincinnati neighborhood, pulled into the alley and made a left into the large double door opening.  As I walked up the stairs, I could see different herbs tied with a simple string, hang...