Plan B

I’ve been meaning to write a story the last day or two. In between times, while walking down the street or standing in a store line-up, I worked out how I’d tell the story. This afternoon, just as I sat down to write an email or two, I reminded myself that I should write the story about… it’s gone! I have not idea any more what story I intended to write about. I know my son was in it, but… blank. Oh, is that scary when it happens. Even at Almost Fifty, I really don’t feel that old!

So, Plan B, another story... My son was about two years old when, for the first time, I gave him some gum to chew. Two small pieces. Given to him just after picking him up at noon from day care. The whole way home, on the bicycle, he didn’t let out one peep. When we got home, I lifted him out of his bicycle seat and placed him on the ground. He stumbled and fell to the ground. He looked up quite disconcerted and said, “Oops, the gum is no longer apart”. He thought he had to chew each piece of gum on different sides of his mouth.