It’s Not All Mary Poppins

May I Brag?

When my son, who is sixteen, leaves the house, he always gives me a hug goodbye.
Even when his friends are there.

August 20, 2005 Posted by | my kids | 9 Comments

Because it’s there, that’s why

From the archives, five years ago…

This story is of an eighteen-month-old boy, one of the most energetic, happiest, most positive I’ve ever had in the daycare. Tons of activity, tons of fun. I loved this boy.

(You don’t love them all, you know. Of course I feel affection for all of them, and take pleasure in their accomplishments and their little emerging characters. Some of them, though, some of them get right under your skin and all the way into your heart, and you know you’d happily take him in as one of your own if it came to that: Lil Dude was one of that type.)

That afternoon, Lil Dude, feeling full of beans and tough as nails after his nice long nap, decided needed to stretch himself a little. All his routine stuff – charging around like a mad thing, lifting the end of the dining table bench, knocking over block towers, shoving chairs around, sliding the guinea pig cage across the room, knocking over other children with his signature commando hugs – all that everyday stuff? None of it was sufficiently challenging for Lil Dude today. No sir, what was needed was something different, something significant, something BIG!!

He trotted around the house, obviously seeking that special something, that extra challenge, but not quite sure just what he was after. Until he came to the fireplace in the living room. Just the thing!

He trotted over to the wall into which the fireplace is set, and wedged himself against the bricks of the fireplace where they jutted out into the room. His back was to the wall, his right shoulder leaning against the 10 cm lip of brick, and he was facing into the living room. His cheek pressed into the bricks, he leaned his shoulder against the fireplace, braced his feet on the floor. All systems go? Yes? Away we gooooo!

He grunted, he panted, his face was screwed up with the effort. His legs quivered, his tendons strained, his face slowly reddened as he pushed, and pushed, and pushed!

Clearly, the intent was to move the fireplace just a few inches over to the left.


August 20, 2005 Posted by | individuality, quirks and quirkiness, random and odd | 9 Comments