TREE-RIPENED FRUIT

My family loved fruit.  Both my children enjoyed oranges, apples, grapes, and even grapefruit, from a very early age.  They were preschoolers when we moved, and it was in Texas that we quickly discovered what real citrus fruit tasted like.  We had only had fruit from the grocery store and it was shipped in from

THE EXPERIMENT

The old adage “boys will be boys” certainly proved true outside my home that day.  I heard some rowdiness but didn’t pay much attention because that’s the way 8-year-old boys play.  Suddenly the front door flew open and my son stomped in, huffing and puffing, fists balled up at his sides, face red and puffy. 

HE WANTS TO BE MY FRIEND

Some parents are blessed to have children who adore each other, who play well together, with arguments being the exception rather than the rule.  They rarely fight over a toy or disagree over music, sometimes even enjoying the same friends.  And then…there are kids like mine!  I well remember the toddler era, when every time

THE EASY WAY OR THE HARD WAY

“We can either do this the hard way or the easy way.”  The male nurse was tall and muscular, not at all like the nurses who had previously attended my son, but his voice was as gentle as it was firm.  Sadly, I already knew what the answer was going to be.  My 3-year-old was

THE PEA-PICKIN’ PROCESS

We were city dwellers, or at least we were until we arrived in Maine.  My children had never seen much gardening other than my lame attempts to grow tomatoes indoors.  A new neighbor took special interest in our little family and asked if we would like to come over and help her pick peas.  Dot