Mr. Write's Page

One of the delights of life is watching your children and grandchildren blossom.

My youngest granddaughter Sarah was two years old in April. Right now, she is in full blossom, and it’s wondrous to watch.

Twice a week, Sarah spends the morning at the church nursery school. She’s doing well and enjoys it.

Yesterday, I was scheduled to keep Sarah for the afternoon, so when the church called at 9:00 AM and said she was sick, I was the natural choice to go pick her up.

When I arrived a few minutes later, Sarah and one of the church ladies were waiting in a front room.

The woman said Sarah had suddenly and unexpectedly thrown up in class. “Woggy,” Sarah informed me, “Me throw up on carpet!”

The church lady said they took Sarah out of class, of course, in case she had something contagious, and she threw up again.

“Woggy,” Sarah added, “Me throw up in trash can!”

The church lady then related this conversation, which had occurred a few minutes before I arrived:

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CHURCH LADY: Oh, sweet girl, I’m so sorry you got sick.

SARAH: Mommy call me “sweet girl,” too.

CHURCH LADY: She does? Oh, that’s nice. What does your daddy call you?

SARAH: Him call me “knucklehead.”

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Sarah’s temperature was normal, and she was perfectly okay for the rest of the day. What caused her to get sick is a mystery.

As Sarah and I left the church and walked out to the car, this was our conversation:

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SARAH: Woggy, me throw up on carpet.

ROCKY: I know! What did the other kids say when you threw up?

SARAH: They say, “Sarah throw up on carpet! Ewwww!”

ROCKY: So, your dad calls you “knucklehead,” does he?

SARAH: Uh-huh. But me not a knucklehead. Daddy a knucklehead!

ROCKY: I think YOU’RE the knucklehead.

SARAH: No, me not a knucklehead. Woggy a knucklehead.

ROCKY: I’m a knucklehead?

SARAH: Uh-huh. Woggy and Daddy the knuckleheads around here!