Grass
There are family stories. Legends. I have told this story over and over. … and over. I must be old! The kids roll their eyes. My wife, (present and former), averts her eyes. Laugh! But, the story is illustrated. My favorite daughter hated grass. It was an entirely new sensation for a “city kid.” Yuck! No grass! It felt funny to toddler feet. I placed her on the shuffleboard court. She never strayed onto the grass. Yuck! Ha ha! Instant baby sitter! An invisible fence. She never crossed the border. No grass! No grass shall touch those feet. Yup, I had to carry her off to civilization later.
Shuffleboard
Jules was born in Manhattan. City kid. She did not like grass. In bare feet she hated the feel of grass. It was quite a surprise to me when she refused to step off the shuffleboard court. And then I realized what a wonderful baby sitter we had. Put her on the court surrounded by grass and no need to worry that she’d run off. It didn’t last long ‘cause her mom didn’t trust to fate. I had to keep watching Jules like a hawk.
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