“You smell that?”
My youngest daughter came into our bedroom for a family cuddle with us parents and our two other children.
But as quickly as she piled in, she put her hand up to her nose and said, “Yuk, somebody’s got stinky breath.”
Thankfully, she didn’t specify who and only indicated with her eyes that it must be one of us adults.
She backed away, and I asked, “Where are you going?” [continue reading…]
“I’m outfitted for the digital age with my laptop and, well, something else.”
My three kids were playing on their school laptops on a recent Sunday morning, silently absorbed in their video games.
I had gone into the living room after walking the dog on a crisp winter morning, and stopped to watch. They were pushing buttons here and there to advance in Horse Life, Sonic the Hedgehog and Super Mario Bros., no words shared between them.
I interrupted and said, “I see you’ve found the board games.”
The eldest looked up at me and said, “Ha, ha.”
My autistic and very literal son, who is 10 years old, didn’t understand my sarcasm and looked at me like I’d grown a third leg. [continue reading…]
“Hey, we grow up.”
Our youngest daughter doesn’t much like small dogs. She got chased around and bit by a puppy when she was six years old, and since then she’s harbored a fear of all canine runts.
So when a miniature poodle came running up to her on the beach, my wife gulped.
Our daughter, now more mature at the age of seven, didn’t notice the poodle until it was at her feet and now yelping.
Her face turned white.
But seconds later, she resumed smiling on a pleasant walk down the beach.
My wife sighed and said, “So you’re not afraid of small dogs anymore?”
“Nah,” our daughter said. “It’s just that at first I thought it was a zombie.”