The setting: a moving sidewalk leading into Las Vegas’ McCarran International Airport from short-term parking.
The characters: myself (laden with a children’s carseat, a pink backpack, and a rolling suitcase), my sister (encumbered with the same array of baggage), my nephew (six years old and wearing a backpack), and my niece (four years old, tiny for her age, wearing a unicorn backpack and carrying Pandie in her arms).
“Come upstairs with me,” my 4-year-old niece insisted, before the garage door had even finished closing. “We’re having a dinner party.”
It was 8:30 in the morning, and my 6-year-old nephew was heading in to have his tonsils removed. I’d agreed to help my sister out by watching my niece for most of the day. Continue reading “Imaginary Baking”→
Enough children live in Clark County, Nevada to build twelve metropolis-sized Neverlands. It’s the answer to a math problem: if the United States government considers an urban population in excess of 50,000 to be a metropolis, and if there are nearly 600,000 children living in the greater Las Vegas area, how many metropolises of children are there?
Here’s one from my personal archives. I wrote the original at the end of 2010, and have edited it for clarity and length.
In the beginning, there was mud. There was light, too, and water, and dirt, and the roiling mass of magma bubbling below the earth’s crust. Before living creatures crawled the planet, there was mud. Ooey-gooey thick pasty stuff heavy with clay, thin sandy sludge, sticky goop rich with nutrients—mud was the primeval womb of the physical world. Continue reading “Mud”→
(Spoiler alert for anyone not in the know about a certain jolly old elf.)
T’was the night before Christmas, and Andrew and I found ourselves standing with my sister and her husband around their kitchen table. The children, my five-and-a-half-year-old nephew and essentially-four-year-old niece, were nestled all snug in their beds, and had been for hours, during which time several presents had been wrapped, fancifully labelled, and propped in front of the tree. Continue reading “Christmas Eve 2018”→