NEARLY 4!
Have you noticed as I pen this modern epic masterpiece from time-to-time that the main character is 3½ years of age? Are you getting tired of him being 3½? I’m not tired of it at all but as this old share cropper becomes older and older it becomes obvious that even 3½ year old kids must turn 4 sometime. That is a very important part of living on this planet.
Guess what? Don Andrew turns 4 this month. What are the ancient one’s fears as he grows older? Don’t they center on the loss of innocence or whatever it is that is so absolutely neat about 3½ year old kids? What if Don Andrew decides he is too big to fight windmills and bushes and lamp posts and trees with Grandpa Sancho? What if we must give all that up for bigger boy things?
He already likes Benny the Jet Rodriquez and baseball. But that’s not so bad because that fits right in with fighting windmills, etc., right now. That can still be little boy stuff. Of course, to be downright honest I must admit I want to still be around to watch him play baseball and whatever else he chooses. I want to do that for all my grandkids.
This befuddled old laborer has raised so many questions it makes his head swim. I think everything is going to be okay for awhile. This laborer was talking with Doña Duchess just the other day and was told that Don Andrew was drinky or drinkie. How do you spell that? What does it mean? Well, it seems that this is the modern day kid word for being thirsty. Then on another day I was talking with the Duchess when something else happened. Don Andrew was picking Don Matthew’s nose. He didn’t stop right away. I told Doña Duchess, There must be only one thing nearly as good as a kid picking his own nose and that would be picking his little brother’s nose.
What else could be said at a time like that? And I ceased to be so befuddled. With those last two incidents, Don Andrew will probably be ready to take sword in hand and fight windmills, bushes, trees, and lamp posts for some time to come. What do you think? I will rest this old brain for awhile.
Guess what? Don Andrew turns 4 this month. What are the ancient one’s fears as he grows older? Don’t they center on the loss of innocence or whatever it is that is so absolutely neat about 3½ year old kids? What if Don Andrew decides he is too big to fight windmills and bushes and lamp posts and trees with Grandpa Sancho? What if we must give all that up for bigger boy things?
He already likes Benny the Jet Rodriquez and baseball. But that’s not so bad because that fits right in with fighting windmills, etc., right now. That can still be little boy stuff. Of course, to be downright honest I must admit I want to still be around to watch him play baseball and whatever else he chooses. I want to do that for all my grandkids.
This befuddled old laborer has raised so many questions it makes his head swim. I think everything is going to be okay for awhile. This laborer was talking with Doña Duchess just the other day and was told that Don Andrew was drinky or drinkie. How do you spell that? What does it mean? Well, it seems that this is the modern day kid word for being thirsty. Then on another day I was talking with the Duchess when something else happened. Don Andrew was picking Don Matthew’s nose. He didn’t stop right away. I told Doña Duchess, There must be only one thing nearly as good as a kid picking his own nose and that would be picking his little brother’s nose.
What else could be said at a time like that? And I ceased to be so befuddled. With those last two incidents, Don Andrew will probably be ready to take sword in hand and fight windmills, bushes, trees, and lamp posts for some time to come. What do you think? I will rest this old brain for awhile.
posted by Harold Durham at
9:16 AM
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