Too Many Chickens

Yesterday was a day for reminiscing. My middle child turned 30 yrs old. I have so many memories of him growing up. Of my three kids he was the one who always kept me on my toes. I’ve heard a lot of psycho babble about the trials of the middle child, but I feel quite confident that he would have been the same regardless of the birth order. He has given me soo much joy and has also caused me more than his share of pain. During his childhood years he was the one that everybody liked…everyone was drawn to him. It was so hard to stay mad at him when he screwed up because of his disarming charm. I still remember the time he stole some gum from the grocery store. He was three yrs old and had these big innocent blue eyes. When I made him return the gum and appologize to the manager for taking it…the manager wanted to just let him have it because he was so cute and sweet. He took advantage of this many many times over the years. But, sometimes it didn’t work for him…like the time he wanted some of those horrible disgusting garbage pail kid cards and didn’t have any money left. He got into my purse and took what he thought was a five dollar bill….it turned out to be a fifty. He went to the convenience store around the corner and bought a few packs of the cards. When they gave him the change back he realized how much money he had and started worring about the fact that I was definately going to miss that much money. When his big brother found out that he had taken my money, he gave him a twenty to keep quiet. Later that day I noticed the money missing and my oldest son…who would never pass up an opportunity to bust out his brother…quickly brought me the hush money and the cards. I couldn’t return them because they had already opened them and chewed the gum. Those stupid disgusting cards are collectables now. I have no idea how much they would be worth if he still had them. It almost seems a shame that he and I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting outside with a big metal pan…a spatula…and some charcoal lighter fluid…watching his ill-gotten gains burn to ashes. I don’t mean to insinuate that he was always in trouble…he was good more often than he was bad, and has such a huge caring heart. In his teenage years, while most of his friends were enjoying school breaks, he would spend his time caring for his great grandmother. She was in a wheelchair, and at that point was living a few states away, but she always came back home for a visit in the spring. It usually worked out that he was out of school then, but even if he wasn’t, he would take the week off to go stay and care for all her needs. They had a special bond and he now has a daughter who is named for her great great grandmother. Through all the laughter and the tears he has been my protector…my challenge…my confidant…my wonderful baby boy.

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