Chloe and Cole were fighting over a stuffed animal one Sunday morning. I don't know why this particular stuffed animal was so important to the both of them at that particular time, seeing as how between the two of them, they have about 300 different stuffed animals they can take their choice of.
The other night I went into the kitchen and poured myself a glass of juice. Chloe came in and said she needed to take some medicine before she went to bed. So, I set the juice on the counter and reached for her medicine bottle.
The front door of our church doesn't have a doorknob. Instead, it has a handle with a small thumb latch above it. To open the door, you have to depress the thumb latch until it clicks and pull. That's all. Easy, right?
I remember it as if it were yesterday. I was 10 years old, and I'd gone to the grocery store with my mother. Not wanting to trail along through the store, I sat on a bench just inside the store's entrance and waited for her to complete her shopping.
I've noticed lately that Chloe has a tendency to take some of her things, put them in a box, wrap them in a blanket, and either hide them under her pillow, or tuck them all around her underneath the bed sheets. I come into her room to kiss her goodnight, and I see all these mysterious lumps under the covers!
I am a 41-year-old adult. I have a wife, a family, a career. I'm strong, confident and capable. While I don't hunt, I do engage in other manly activities such as watching sports, fixing things around the house and hogging the remote control.