This Week's Very Short Story: Chapter 6
I started wearing glasses when I was 3 years old because of
crossed eyes. Every few months I would
have to have my eyes dilated, which was torture. If I was ever taken to Guantanamo, they
could forget the water boarding and just bring out the eye drops.
With my very curly hair and my wife with the same, I had
always thought that if we had a girl, she would be a little Shirley
Temple. It did not work, two boys with
curly/wavy hair.
I grew up with the belief that if it did not have chocolate
and nuts, why eat it.
Sometimes you have to make the big decisions in life: Whether to facebook or to work.
You know those thoughts, ideas and stories that you say to
yourself that you should write down.
Well, I write them down before I forget them.
There is something that I have not been able to figure
out. You go into a restaurant and they
bring you a drink with a straw. What do they think; you haven’t mastered the
art of drinking from a glass?
I am finally coming
to terms with that I played Hopscotch
as a child.
I would have had a much better time on the bus ride home
from Hebrew school if I would have realized that what the girls wanted to do in
the back of the bus was not going to hurt me.
I guess my basketball career ended in sixth grade when I
got elbowed on the playground at Paul L. Best elementary school and ended up
with a broken tooth.
My baseball career was very short sighted. No, that were my glasses I wore since I was 3
years old. Not being able to hit the ball off the tee and field did not
help. Bowling did not suffer because of
that problem.
or
I tried to play baseball, tee ball specifically, when I
was young but I had a hard time seeing to hit the ball off of the tee. I was able to see the spot on the bowling
alley lane, though, and did that very well.
I have never skied.
I once took a lesson and tried cross country skiing when I lived in
Riverview, Michigan. It never snowed
again that winter….. so I moved to
California. (Alternative ending…. Do you want me back to try again?)
My number one rule for my boys when they went away to
college was…. Call you mother. (I recently added rule # 2, which is... remember rule #1. I am now ready to add rule #3... It is OK for call you father. Just in case that you think that I do not follow the rules, I try to call my mother every day, though it was not always that way.
I have mastered being a male. I could talk to one my boys say for 45
minutes and then my wife would ask me what we were talking about. My answer would be nothing.
My wife would like me to wear slippers. I have always associated slippers with being
old. Maybe I should get some slippers, a
robe, a pipe and a couple of young ladies like Hugh Hefner? I don’t think that is what she has in mind.
