Kids

The next door neighbor sounding a little frustrated, slud on over and asked if I would like to buy his kid for cheap. Of course he was joking ….. I think.

I have these somewhere between occasional and frequent moments of regret where I wished I had children. At least one anyway.

I hear about a childhood friend battling illness whose daughter has put her life on hold to come stay with and care for her father in his time of need. I wish that I could experience that kind of love where a child would do anything for you.

And in classic one-thing-leads-to-another mode and though the lyrics tell a different story, I think of the title anyway of the old Tom Rush song, "Kids These Days."

SIDENOTE ….
"Slud" used above is not a typo. It's an old friend, Frank Grassman's term that's been stuck in my head for years now. A word I assume that was bantered about in farm country where he grew up outside of the metropolis known as Gervais Oregon. A substitution for the actual word "slid" used in ways such as the baserunner slud into third base.