Indoors Column: Graveyard

When I was a kid hanging around National Little League, I spent a lot of time thinking about what I could buy with my treat ticket.

 

I could buy a lot of small items like bubble gum and suckers or could go with one larger item, like a pop.  Once pop seemed like the simplest choice most nights but even that had its problems.  I would have to decide which kind of pop I would order.  It seemed so permanent.  Would I really want twelve whole ounces of Coke, or would I regret not getting a refreshing Sprite half-way through the cup?

 

A wise eleven-year-old eventually taught me that I didn’t have to decide.  I could have the concession stand worker give me just a little of every flavor on the fountain in one cup.  The concoction was called the “Graveyard.”

 

I spent a couple of days with our baby, Cady this past weekend while Autumn and the big kids were away.  As I observed her behaviors, I couldn’t help but compare her to her siblings.  I realized that she looks like Charlotte, eats like Callum, throws a ball like Cooper, and fights like Clane.

 

“Holy Crap,” I thought, “I’ve created a Graveyard.”