Daddy likes to tell stories about the dog he had when he was a kid. The dog's name was Sam and according to Dad, he was the smartest dog that ever lived. One of Daddy's stories about Sam involved a road trip from Mississippi to South Carolina. Apparently Sam was smart enough to scratch on the door whenever he needed a pit stop. That worked fine the first few times when the need to relieve himself was genuine. However, after a while, Sam figured out that he could scratch the door, even on the Interstate, if he simply wanted to stretch his legs or chase squirrels or whatever. So, why am I talking about Daddy's old dog? Because I took to heart this lesson when we went to Slovakia and Poland so I could get permission from the US Embassy to visit the United States, Mom and Dad were concerned about how I'd handle such a long road trip. Of course I was in my car seat. I was in the process of potty training already and was only wearing diapers at night. They had the brilliant i...
Almost every day, usually at breakfast but sometimes during other meals, and always with dessert, mom and dad try to get me to share with them. I don't get it. They give me a bowl of berries or pieces of chocolate or a handful of cinnamon toast crunch cereal, and then ask me to give it back. I know how to share. I just don't want to share so I almost never do so. I will occasionally acquiesce just to humor them. I've found that I can tease them by acting like I'm handing them a piece of my treat and then withdrawing it and eating it myself. It frustrates them, but oddly enough, they can't help but laugh. I must admit I can't resist when they open their mouth and look at me like a hurt puppy. Those are the times when I share with them, but even that generosity has its limits. A sure fire cure for their antics is to put the food in my mouth first and then offer it to them. That works nearly every time. Before I came home, I was the smallest guy in the group. No on...