I may have sniffed, flipping one shoulder up with a dismissive wave of the hand.  “But what if I can’t anymore?  Maybe…maybe I’ll quit.”  He shot me a look.  I

We’d called my mother to say, “Happy birthday.”  Boy Two (aka Kid Kaboom) was singing a seriously goofy, nasal-ly version on a phone upstairs; I was cackling into the phone

I stop.  And think.  In a split second, this-this-and-that rush through my mind, things that aren’t finished yet or tied neatly with a bow. I stop and think and then

That’s what it said on the box that held the onion rings.  Sitting there at the local Dairy Queen last night post Boy Three’s Christmas program, I laughed.  Reading it

It was Lee, our friend from church who’d burst energetically into our lives some years back.  An empty nester, she’d adopted us, pulling us right into her heart and life,

When you write, it feels as if your words tumble out into a great, black gulf.  You can’t see people’s faces. Can’t look into their eyes.  You don’t know for sure if anyone

Big E, little E.  What begins with E?  EXCITEMENT for a birthday boy.  E, e, e. Yup – it’s been an exciting week around here with Little Brother turning five only