I ran into a friend the other day with her 6-year-old, who had just celebrated her birthday with a long-awaited party. I asked how it went.
“It was fun,” the 6-year-old said, “but we didn’t get to do everything on the schedule.”
Flashback to my daughter’s sixth birthday party.
We’re selling candy again.
Not the boxes of Fannie May chocolates we sold last fall to support the band program.
These chocolate bars will help fund the eighth-grade field trip.
By my count, it’s our sixth fundraiser of the school year, split among our two children.
Breast cancer has met its match in Lara Handsfield.
Yes, it knocked her flat for a few days, those first horrible days when she lay curled up in a ball, sobbing as she Skyped with her husband who’d just flown to Denmark, not knowing what was to come.
Fifty years ago is a long time when you’re 13.
Three generations. Half a century.
And it came to pass that the holiday season approached, and the people set about making preparations.
Throughout the land, they procured gifts from shops and Internet, commencing on the day that has come to be known as Black Friday.
They baked provisions for holiday festivities and packed belongings for travels near and far to be with kin.
My daughter was 7 when I got The Question.
She was a Tooth Fairy fanatic and had established an ongoing correspondence with our personal fairyland ambassador, Tara.
But one of her darling classmates had suggested that perhaps Tara wasn’t real after all.
The day after the Nov. 17 tornado ripped through Champaign and Vermilion counties, several farmers stopped by Armstrong Township High School.
They asked if they might get some help from the student FFA group to clean up debris strewn around the fields outside Gifford. Principal Darren Loschen and his staff quickly agreed.
What would you take?
With minutes — even seconds — to choose, what mementos of your life, your children’s lives, would you save?
As we prepared to take cover during last week’s tornadoes, I was more focused than usual on that question. This fast-moving storm felt different somehow, more threatening, with warnings all around us.
We have been pet-free for several years, much to my children’s dismay.
After our last remaining cat died in 2007, we took a break.
Excuse rolled over onto excuse: We’ll get a new one when the kids are a little older ... after we get back from vacation ... as soon as we get through this busy period at work.
Truth is, I was tired of hairballs and litter boxes.
There once was a girl with a duct-tape dress. She had a matching duct-tape hat.
She sat in a duct-tape chair by her duct-tape rug. She had duct-tape flowers in her hair and duct-tape shoes on her feet and carried a duct-tape wallet in her duct-tape purse.
Fairy tale? No, it’s all too real. Just check Pinterest.