Aunt Norie’s Sewing Room
"Could you use this for Aunt Norie's?" an old friend asked. With Fathers Day just past and dad on our minds, "Yes of course," I answered. I'm sure many of you will enjoy this.
When I was:
Four years old: My daddy can do anything.
Five years old: My daddy knows a whole lot.
Six years old: My dad is a lot smarter than yours.
Eight years old: My dad doesn't know exactly everything.
Ten years old: In the olden days when my dad grew up things were different.
Twelve years old: Oh, well, naturally, Dad doesn't know anything about that. He's too old to remember his childhood.
Fourteen years old: Don't pay any attention to my dad. He is so old-fashioned.
Twenty-one years old: Him? My lord he's hopelessly out of date.
Twenty-five years old: Dad knows about it, but then he should, because he has been around so long.
Thirty years old: Maybe we should ask dad what he thinks. After all he's had a lot of experience.
Thirty-five years old: I'm not doing a single thing until I talk to dad.
Forty years old: I wonder how dad would have handled it. He was so wise.
Fifty years old: I'd give anything if dad were here now so I could talk this over with him. Too bad I didn't appreciate how smart he was. I could have learned a lot from him.
One of the things I remember and always appreciated about my dad was that he always had time to listen to all of our childish chatter. He never discouraged us as we grew "too big for our britches," so to speak. He would say, "I'm not sure you're tall enough, big enough, quite ready for that step," then add, "but who knows you can always try."
-- Aunt Norie, P.O. Box 265, Tonganoxie, 66086; firstname.lastname@example.org.