He's Only a Little Boy

I'm running around the house waving my UPS tracking number. I can't be still even though I know the delivery won't happen until Tuesday afternoon. Can you guess what I'll be doing Tuesday night?

In case you're having a lazy Sunday with time to do a little reading, here's an excerpt from Chapter 5:

He's Only a Little Boy

Thanks to Fred's mom, Dakota and Tina had state-of-the-art snowsuits, perfect for Tehran's spectacular snow. When we wanted to play outdoors, I had to hurry to suit them up as quickly as I could. If I dawdled, the first one dressed got sweaty before the second zipper zipped. Bundled up in snowsuits, boots, mittens, hats, and hoods, they could barely walk and probably couldn't get up if they fell. I carried Tina and held Dakota's hand as we slip-slid down the steep half-flight of stairs leading from the balcony to our garden.

"Let's build a snow man." I packed a handful of snow into a ball and showed the kids how to roll it along to accumulate more snow.

"Wow. What a big ball you made. That can be the snowman's body."

We rolled a medium-sized ball for the torso and a smaller ball for the head. My chartreuse straw gardening hat sat on top. Dakota chose square blue Lego pieces for eyes and a green one for the nose. Tina picked out five small rectangular red pieces and I helped her form a smiling mouth.

I stepped back to admire our work. "Isn't that the best snowman in all the world? Hold on a second, I'm gonna run in the house and get the camera."

In less than two minutes I came back, ready to immortalize Mr. Snowman on film. But Mr. Snowman lay in a heap. Dakota held his red plastic baseball bat in a perfect home run follow-through, just the way I had taught him.

"I don't believe it! Young man, you better go to your room and think about what you have just done." Vapor puffed out of my mouth with every word. I imagined steam pouring out of my nose and ears.

Two-year-old Tina tugged at my pants leg. I looked down at her earnest little face.

"But, Mommy," she spoke softly in a soothing and reasonable voice, "he's only a little boy." ###

Note: Although Dakota did not grow up to be either a baseball hall-of-famer or a professional snow-man-deconstructionist, Tina did become a counselor and is now the owner of a thriving private practice.

Next time - an excerpt from Chapter 6 and news about availability of Voluntary Nomads.