Stealing - Parenting Plights & Delights

This is a sweet story my Aunt Walda, who goes by the nickname Sam, shared with me. It's from her childhood and offers some valuable lessons for us:

"When I was in third grade, I was taught by the most dear and gentle nun. It was obvious that Sister Saint Hubert should have retired years before, but she was still patient and kind when dealing with her class of seven- and eight-year-olds. 

Little Walda as a school girl

"One day, giving in to temptation, I took a quarter from Shirley's desk and dropped it into my pocket. In the school year 1947/48, a quarter had a bit more value than it does now. Especially to a third grader. Sister made a plea to the class stating that Shirley needed her quarter for the streetcar fare home. 


"My conscience being pricked, I stood up. Sister didn't let me say anything, but took me by the arm into the coat room. There were no words exchanged. I handed her the quarter and began to cry. She took me in her arms and held me for a few minutes. 


"Then she exited the coat room and shouted back to me so that the class could hear, 'Walda, please straighten up the coats for me.' 


"She then told the class, "Walda said Shirley can have her quarter.'


"I still fill up with tears when I remember that incident, and I'm wiping tears from my eyes as I type this. Never underestimate your little acts of love, kindness, understanding, and forgiveness can have upon a young heart. I'm sure Sister Saint Hubert is enjoying her reward in heaven today."

I don't know about you, but my aunt's story makes teary-eyed every time I read it. Such an important lesson learned about stealing and also how a kind person can steal our hearts and leave an everlasting impression.

Did you ever steal when you were a child? If so, did you get caught and get in trouble? Parents, have you had to deal with this with your own children? I'd love to hear your thoughts.

(A version of this story originally appeared in the Highland Community News in December 1999.)

Big Sis Hijinks - Parenting Plights & Delights

Charlene Parton shared some of her favorite parenting stories with me. Her eyes lit up as she relived those long ago moments. A mother of three daughters, Charlene's youngest, Kathleen, was born when Melinda was in high school. A special relationship developed between Melinda and Kathleen, despite the age difference. 

It seems Melinda had a ball teaching her baby sister things. She taught Kathleen that her elbow was called a "knee."

"She mixed up all her body parts," Charlene said with a chuckle. "And she told her that 'zip code' is a bad word!"

Kathleen told her mother over and over, "I want to go coos." Charlene couldn't figure out what she was trying to say. 

Then she learned that Melinda loved to take Kathleen cruising. Melinda would drive her all around town and toot the horn while the baby waved at everyone they knew. Kathleen loved all the attention and thought cruising was fun and exciting. 

When Kathleen was about three years old, she wanted a pair of shoe skates, but she was so petite, they couldn't find any that fit her. So Melinda bought a pair of tennis shoes for her little sis and she fit the tennis shoes into the shoes of the skates.

Kathleen learned to skate on them, as heavy and bulky as they were. "She had a lot of muscles in her legs from those," Charlene said.

When the Olympics were on, Kathleen was impressed with the American ice hockey team. She got the plastic golf set her father had given her and skated around the kitchen, pretending she was on the ice hockey team. 

"Melinda was quite a character," Charlene said. "Kathleen got the chicken pox when she was six years old. I came home one time and discovered that Melinda had played dot-to-dot on Kathleen. She drew lines and connected all the chicken pox!"

Did you get along with your siblings? Were you the oldest, middle child, or the baby? How did it affect you?  

Do you have a parenting or grandparenting memory

or another story you'd like to share? 

If you're not a parent, memories from your own childhood count, too. 

Warning: I might feature your story in a future post. 

(Names can be changed to protect the guilty!)

I'd like to thank all those who have shared their stories. 

These posts wouldn't be the same without your input.

If you don't want to leave a comment but would rather contact me by email, 

here's my address: lynkelwoohoo at yahoo dot com.

(A version of this story originally appeared in the Highland Community News in October 1999.)

Chuckles - Parenting Plights & Delights

Years ago my Aunt Sam shared some of her favorite parenting stories with me. Here's some of her favorites, in her own words:

"My son Bill learned to say The Lord's Prayer very early and said it each night before going to bed. One evening when I was particularly attentive, I heard him say, 'And deliver us from eagles.' 

"Along similar lines, my friend, Joyce Cotterman, was telling her young son, Kevin, about Jesus, explaining that all you have to do is believe in Jesus to belong to the Kingdom of Heaven. Kevin considered this for a few minutes and then said, 'I'd rather be a Mouseketeer.'

"My daughter Nancy was eating her very first ice cream cone. She consumed it with relish but with just one small problem. She ate the cone first and was left holding a blob of ice cream. She still likes the cone better than the ice cream. 

"When I opened a can of fruit cocktail, I prayed that there would be an even amount of cherries or my two children would fight over the odd one. I eventually solved that problem by eating the odd one myself. 

"My brother-in-law, Neil Hoppe, had a car painted bright red and was delighted with the results. He parked it in the driveway and admired it as he walked into the house. Later, when he came out to admire it some more, he discovered many stars scratched in the paint. 

"His young daughter, Linda, had learned how to draw stars at school that day, and the beautiful red paint seemed like a real nice place to practice." 

Thanks for the chuckles, Aunt Sam, and for sharing your memories with us!

Do you have a parenting or grandparenting memory

or another story you'd like to share? 

If you're not a parent, memories from your own childhood count, too. 

Warning: I might feature your story in a future post. 

(Names can be changed to protect the guilty!)

I'd like to thank all those who have shared their stories. 

These posts wouldn't be the same without your input.

If you don't want to leave a comment but would rather contact me by email, 

here's my address: lynkelwoohoo at yahoo dot com.

A version of these stories originally appeared in The Highland Community News in January 2000.

Trashed - Parenting Plights & Delights

This is one of my favorite parenting stories. It happened years ago when my sister, Cindy, was eight months pregnant with her second child. Her hormones were raging and she'd cry over any little thing. 

On a hot summer day, she relaxed on her front porch as she watched her two-year-old son (Soldier) help her husband, Jim, with his yard work. Soldier helped his dad roll the huge trashcan across the lawn. It was provided by the city, the kind with a heavy lid that hangs down when it's open. The lid almost scrapes the ground when you roll it at an angle. 

Suddenly, Jim disappeared. Cindy noticed the trashcan had fallen onto its side. She wondered what in the world was going on. Then she noticed Jim's foot sticking out and wiggling. He slowly emerged, crawling backwards on his hands and knees. He had tripped on the lid and fallen face down into the trashcan. 

Cindy busted up, laughing hysterically. As hard as she tried, she couldn't get a grip, and tears poured down her face. Then she noticed a cut on Jim's leg. Her normal response would be to get a bandage for him, but the hormones fueled her laugh attack so it mounted with greater intensity. 

Knowing Jim wouldn't appreciate her laughing at him, she went into the house to calm down. After five minutes of sidesplitting laughter, the thought occurred to her that all that laughing might trigger labor. 

That thought, plus the realization that Jim might get mad at her, sobered her up in an instant. Cindy's hormones did an about-face, she cried uncontrollably, sobs racking her body. 

Soon Jim and Soldier walked into the kitchen and stared as she wailed loudly. One look at their puzzled faces and Cindy's crying fit turned into screams of laughter. 

Jim didn't get mad and Cindy carried the baby full term. She had a boy, who I call Joker, and he ended up with a wonderful sense of humor!

Do you have a parenting or grandparenting memory

or another story you'd like to share? 

If you're not a parent, memories from your own childhood count, too.

(Or another family member's or a friend's story) 

Warning: I might feature your story in a future post. 

(Names can be changed to protect the guilty!)

I'd like to thank all those who have shared their stories. 

These posts wouldn't be the same without your input.

If you don't want to leave a comment but would rather contact me by email, 

here's my address: lynkelwoohoo at yahoo dot com.

A version of this story originally appeared in The Highland Community News in April 1998.

Bonedigger and Mr. Beerbelly?

It's Friday and I'm feeling quirky, so here's a Paul Simon song with some quirky lyrics. This is the Chevy Chase version, so I hope it puts a smile on your face and a hop and a skip in your step. 

A nice kickoff for the weekend, don't you think?

Paul Simon - You Can Call Me Al

Chevy Chase version!

The song lyrics are pretty random, especially the "Bonedigger Bonedigger" part.

Skeletons might get a bit rattled.

"I don't dig bonediggers even if it is in a cartoon graveyard,
and please get those mutts away from me!"

By the way, who's Mr. Beerbelly? 

Just call me Ale, mateys. Bottoms up. Arr!

Do you understand the lyrics?

A man walks down the street

He says why am I soft in the middle now

Why am I soft in the middle
The rest of my life is so hard
I need a photo-opportunity
I want a shot at redemption
Don't want to end up a cartoon
In a cartoon graveyard
Bonedigger Bonedigger
Dogs in the moonlight
Far away my well-lit door
Mr. Beerbelly Beerbelly
Get these mutts away from me
You know I don't find this stuff amusing anymore
If you'll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you Betty
And Betty when you call me
You can call me Al

A man walks down the street
He says, why am I short of attention?
Got a short little span of attention
And why are my nights are so long?
Where's my wife and family?
What if I die here?
Who'll be my role-model?
Now that my role-model is
Gone...Gone
He ducked back down the alley
With some roly-poly little bat-faced girl
All along...along
There were incidents and accidents
There were hints and allegations

If you'll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you Betty
And Betty when you call me
You can call me Al
Call me Al

A man walks down the street
It's a street in a strange world
Maybe it's the Third World
Maybe it's his first time around
He doesn't speak the language
He holds no currency
He is a foreign man
He is surrounded by the sound
The sound
Cattle in the marketplace
Scatterlings and orphanages
He looks around, around
He sees angels in the architecture
Spinning in infinity
He says Amen! and Hallelujah!

If you'll be my bodyguard
I can be your long lost pal
I can call you Betty
And Betty when you call me
You can call me Al
Call me Al

According to Wikipedia, "The names in the song came from an incident at a party that Simon went to with his then-wife Peggy Harper. French composer and conductor Pierre Boulez, who was attending the same party, mistakenly referred to Paul as "Al" and to Peggy as "Betty", inspiring Simon to write a song." It also states that the lyrics can be interpreted as a man experiencing a midlife crisis. 

Are you a Paul Simon fan? Do you think these lyrics are a wee bit random? I mean, c'mon now, "Scatterlings and orphanages" and "He sees angels in the architecture" and "Spinning in infinity"? 

I have to admit I can relate to "Spinning in infinity." Yep, totally digging that line! And since I'm such a random being and love random acts of weirdness, I LOVE this song. 

Have a wonderful weekend. By the way, you can call me Betty, if I can call you Al! I'm off to find a bodyguard...

Never a Dull Moment - Parenting Plights & Delights

Mary Alice Parker writes family stories down to preserve them for future generations to enjoy. These stories took place in the 1940s but are incidents parents today can relate to:

"My cousin Dottie Chinnici's youngest son, Gerry, was a very active child who walked early. He had more locomotion than common sense. It was summer and still light when they put their 10-month-old baby into his crib, kissed him goodnight and closed the door.

"About a half an hour later, a neighbor rang the front doorbell. 'Does this child belong to you?' Gerry had managed to unlatch the window screen and open it, climb out of his crib and over the window sill, lower himself to the ground, and was apprehended walking down the sidewalk in his yellow sleeper with feet. Needless to say, the windows in his room got nailed shut, and they figured out another plan of rescue in case of fire.

"This same kid, Gerry, was quite a climber. He was a little older but still astonishing his parents with his athletic feats. Some were not appreciated. This was World War II and sugar (as well as meat and gas, etc.) was rationed and highly prized. Sugar meant cookies and birthday cakes and canning apricots and peaches and some in the coffee and tea.

"The sugar was put on top of the refrigerator for safekeeping. Somehow little Gerry climbed on top of the fridge with the sugar, tore open the bag, spread it all over his face and clothes while sampling it, and sprinkled the rest like snow all over the counters and floor. 

"He survived all this mischief (he was a very cute boy), and when he was about four, he went with his mother Dottie to visit great-uncle Clark Woodruff who lived on a small orange grove ranch on Bandini Street in Riverside, California. Uncle Clark was a very old, tall, thin and pale gentleman with white hair. 

"Gerry kept looking up at him all the time his mother and great-uncle were visiting. At a lull in the conversation, Gerry said, 'Are you one of my ancestors?' 

"Uncle Clark looked a little startled and then said, 'Yes, Sonny, I guess I am.'"

I bet Mary Alice's relatives are tickled that she preserved these stories. I don't know about you, but I sure got a good chuckle out of them.

Looks like kids making messes is something every generation deals with!

Kids Destroy Home With One Bag of Flour

YouTube November 2011

Do you have a parenting or grandparenting memory

or another story you'd like to share? 

                          If you're not a parent, memories from your own childhood count, too! 

Warning: I might feature your story in a future post. 

(Names can be changed to protect the guilty!)

I'd like to thank all those who have shared their stories. 

These posts wouldn't be the same without your input.

If you don't want to leave a comment but would rather contact me by email, 

here's my address: lynkelwoohoo at yahoo dot com.

A version of this story originally appeared in The Highland Community News in November 1999.