First, these little stories will be in no means chronological order. I will make an effort to keep them somewhat oriented in the forward direction but they will tend to jump around as what I want to write about comes to mind. But, that is the way our human brain is wired to work. Not all our memories are readily available, and some are buried, forgotten, like a treasure we meant to keep hidden for a later date. An event will trigger the memory, giving us the key to unlocking to the wonderful chest of booty and we will be able to give everyone else the chance to experience it too. So let's start with an easy story, my two oldest at their youngest.
Well, let's just say, we by no means are a normal family. Even from the start, our family has been odd. My two oldest are eleven months and two weeks apart and for those who need a little more help with their math, yes that means for two weeks out of the year they are the same age. Ray was there for his big sister's first birthday, as she lovingly tried to bestow her own present to her little brother, a pacifier.
So it has been since, Bet is a tender-hearted mother bird, who seemingly only want in life is to care for her younger siblings. Back then, we had it a little rough. As any younger couple would, we struggled financially to provide for the growing family. My parents, misleading as it was, wanted to help from the start with their first grandchildren. We often would even live with them in the first few years as we struggled along. I am going to insert an opinion here that will be controversial but it is my book so I am allowed it. Parents should not coddle their grown children and definitely should not try to help in the raising of their grandchildren.
I might experience some backlash for that statement but it really inhibited the growth of my family as a whole and we would not become what I would term as a family until we would take that step and burn the bridge to safety, facing the wilds of the world as one. Since, not only did the kids grow closer to the parents, but the siblings grew closer together. Most kids will fight against each other and rainy days can seem like WWE Monday Night Raw, but our house rarely sees even arguments and my children will often even step in and do the chores for the other.
Every parent loves to pull pranks on their children but occasionally one can go wrong. My oldest daughter has always been a little on the, what can we call it... well gullable side, for a lack of a nicer term. When Bet was two, I did what most fathers do and I reached out and grabbed her nose, pretending to steal it. My daughter argued that I had not and I showed her a small portion of my thumb between two fingers of a curled fist as proof. Her little eyes went wide with horror as her mouth slackened.
A blood-curdling scream ripped from her throat as she ran for her Nanna. My mother tried to hide her laughter and my daughter would not stop wailing until she was shown in the mirror that her nose was still quite attached. Talk about a joke gone sour but hey just another day in the life of a father.
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