It's the end of the week. Time for reflection and time for rest.
I'm recycling some of my favorites ... and hope they will become yours.
Published December 27, 2009
That was Josh.
His voice turned raspy at a young age ... so he always told stories just like he was an old man. Speaking of stories ... his would go on forever because he competed for "stage time" with his sisters. Alissa would tell her favorite story "The Wide Mouth Frog" (about a frog who met other animals and asked "What do you feed your babies?")
When his turn came around, he would combine details from every story he'd ever heard ... "Once upon a time there were three bears ... who asked Mrs Alligator, What do you feed your baby ... and then Goldilocks told the wolf that .... um ... there were ... um ..."
Alissa ... "Josh ... that is not a real story ...."
Josh ... " DAD .... LISSA IS DISTURRRVING ME!"
Josh's room was a typical boy's room ... disaster area. There was a time when he was about two that his room was exceptionally nasty ... the smell would carry through the whole house. His mom cleaned his carpet every week but it still smelled awful. Our old dog Sammy had died that year ... so we couldn't blame him for the smell. We just couldn't figure it out.
One day I was walking by the room and happened to notice Josh standing on his top bunk bed with his pants down around his knees. There was a steady pee stream arching from Josh to the corner of his room.
His mother was not impressed ... but I have to say ... I was.