The photo used includes me, two of my sons and both of my daughters, sometime in the 90's.After 350+ stories I loose track of what I’ve said and what I haven’t. I don’t intend to retell a tale unless it’s bringing back an oldie, but I’ve been reading through all of mine and I can’t find these, although I can’t be sure.
In the very late 70’s, my son was invited to a Columbia College (New York) potential new student reception at an Alumni Doctors house in Detroit. He was looking at schools and Columbia was a choice.
The house was great, and they had Admissions staff and alums and various folks along with potential students and their parents.
I went with my son, figuring as a college administrator I could speak the language as needed.
We had good treats and enjoyable conversation and a nice evening. When we were ready to go, we said good night to the host in his front hall. He said, “It’s so nice for you to come with your brother to this event.” I of course replied, “This isn’t my brother, this is my son!” He was startled and called to his wife to get out here quickly, “You won’t believe this one, that’s his son!”
In the early 90’s, I was out with my daughter, pushing her on the swings. We were having a wonderful time on the playground, when a young boy came over and said, “My grandfather comes out and pushes me on the swings too!”
The hard part to deal with is that these responses are to the same person (me) in the same lifetime.
In the very late 70’s, my son was invited to a Columbia College (New York) potential new student reception at an Alumni Doctors house in Detroit. He was looking at schools and Columbia was a choice.
The house was great, and they had Admissions staff and alums and various folks along with potential students and their parents.
I went with my son, figuring as a college administrator I could speak the language as needed.
We had good treats and enjoyable conversation and a nice evening. When we were ready to go, we said good night to the host in his front hall. He said, “It’s so nice for you to come with your brother to this event.” I of course replied, “This isn’t my brother, this is my son!” He was startled and called to his wife to get out here quickly, “You won’t believe this one, that’s his son!”
In the early 90’s, I was out with my daughter, pushing her on the swings. We were having a wonderful time on the playground, when a young boy came over and said, “My grandfather comes out and pushes me on the swings too!”
The hard part to deal with is that these responses are to the same person (me) in the same lifetime.
No comments:
Post a Comment