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Catch me if you can
In the small town in which I grew up, the Fourth of July celebration had many activities associated with it. Part of the day was spent at the community pool with a unique event. You see, they would “grease” a watermelon and throw in the pool. The fun then began as we all jumped in to try to corral the greasy fruit. I can’t exactly remember what you won if you were able to wrestle the watermelon out of the pool, but I know it wasn’t easy.
You might be wondering why I bring up this part of my “slippery past,” well, I will tell you. My daughter has been sporting a nasty cold for the last couple of weeks. You know the kind kids get - cough and stuffy head. That has meant my wife and I have had to chase her around the house with a tissue. And like that watermelon, she is not the easy one to get your hands on - especially when she knows what’s coming.
One wipe of the tissue is never enough. Just when I think I have a good grasp on her, she slips through my hands and, well, let’s just say that further work is needed on her nose - and maybe her cheek, hands, etc. Children sure can be elusive when they want to be. And the more I wipe the nose, the more frustrated she becomes. And then she cries, and that results in more reason to wipe her nose. On and on the nose-wiping dance goes.
There were many things in my childhood I was thankful I experienced for they have prepared me for things later in life. Little did I know the watermelon in the pool would be one of them. Now, I am very thankful that I had the chance to try to catch that slippery fruit. Gotta go - time to wrestle with my daughter - and wipe her nose.
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By Thaddeus G Best
December 11, 2007 4:52 AM | Link to this
Now that’s what “basic training” is all about. : )That’s a wonderful story. It reminded me of a similar childhood experience that I would never had thought would have me prepared for today with my own little one. At early childhood, I was the “go get her” guy when it was doctor visit time. My sister, who is older than I, would run. Mommie would say, “son, go get her.” I would run her down and bring her back to get her shots. Today, I have the lovely task of holding my 20th old son to get his shots and when he takes x-rays for his nicely curved leg, its a battle for sure. He usually forgives me after about 2mins or so. Stories like yours brings a smile to many faces.
God Bless