Pogo said:
My own dad worked his ass off raising 13 kids. We were no end of grief to him, what with half of that group coming of age in the late 60s-early 70s.
One of my favorite memories: He would come home from his job as an industrial engineer (whatever the hell that was) and he would show us a trick. He'd take a colored piece of paper, write down someone's name on it, tear it into shreds and swallow it and act like it was working its way down to his fat old stomach. Very dramatic.
He'd open his shirt and pull out the same balled-up colored paper from his belly-button, once again all in one piece, name on it and all!Woo hoooo! How'd you do that?!?, we'd ask.
Years later I realized he must have sat in his office chair, putting a wad of paper in his belly button, just to do that trick when he got home.
That's love.
Hey I am going to try that trick tonight with my granddaughter. Except I have enough room for the Declaration of Independence in my belly button.
She has to learn her American History early.
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