“Move,” said my 6-year-old son Peter to his grandmother. “I want to get by.” My mother looked up from her book and gave my son a hard look. Read more.
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A Case of the Human Condition: The Center of the Universe? It’s a Little Beach in Michigan, of Course
If I were drawing a map of the world, its center would be the little beach in Michigan where the Bass Lake outlet flows into the great, blue Lake Michigan. Read more.
A (Pillow) Case of the Human Condition: Time to Crack Open That Hope Chest and Live a Little
I waited too long to get married. By the time Jon and I said our vows, the contents of my hope chest had become outdated, old-fashioned, fussy — unusable. As a result, after thirty some years of marriage, I continue to be the owner of a dozen or so beautiful, hand-embroidered, virginal pillowcases. Read more.
Help! My Kids Aren’t Perfect After All
The kids were still pre-schoolers at the time, and it had been another night of sleep deprivation for me. “Tell me it gets easier,” I said to my friend Nancy. “Well, actually it gets harder,” she replied. Nancy has a daughter three years older than Peter. She keeps me briefed on the parenting realities ahead. Read more.
A Case of the Human Condition: Walking the Walker in Minneapolis
After the Religion Newswriters Conference in Minneapolis in September, I took time out to visit our son Peter. Together we took a walk around the Walker Art Center. Here’s what we saw.
A Case of the Human Condition: When Your Six-Year-Old Wants to Talk Money
My six-year-old wanted an allowance. Jon and I debated. Fifty cents a week? 75? “Let’s not talk in cents,” said Peter. “Let’s talk in dollars.” Read more.
How Selective Service Made a Man of My Son — Without Even Trying
In a few weeks my son would be eighteen, time to sign up for Selective Service. I’d filled out forms for him for years, but this was different. This piece of paper could send him off to war. Read more.