All of us guys were stir crazy from the long winter. Grass was still dead brown. Not much to do and I was broke. Hard times had hit again. My father was sick with a cold and finally got back into the carpool and was anxious to see the driver and riders. That Monday morning he was not standing at the curb as usual. Howard the driver revved up the car engine as a clue that he was waiting. Dad burst out the front door very distraught for being late. His nose was dripping and his eyes were swollen almost shut. My father always had a rag stuffed in his back pocket for a handkerchief...his nose was as big as a large dill pickle. In his haste, he quickly grabbed a white rag and stuffed it in his pocket. He jumped into the front seat of the car and bid good morning to the usual sleepy eyed riders. He felt a powerful sneeze about to erupt and he grabbed his rag and crammed his nose inside...perfect timing!  Then dead silence from the group as if they had never witnessed the power of dad’s “achew!” Howard broke the silence when he asked dad if he was going to be able to work. A chuckle came from Eleanor in the back seat. My father had mistakenly sneezed in my mother’s white brassiere. Realizing that, dad just muttered, “She’s going to kill me... AGAIN.” He sniffled all the way to work. 

Enough about Dad. I needed money. Thankfully I used my genius side of my brain and created a self-employed business. Dog poop removal service. There were plenty of free-grazing dogs in town. They cared not where they did their business. I made it my business to place the dried and aged poop gifts on various yards in town. I had a bucket full and would discreetly place the “gifts “ at sundown right next to the front yard sidewalks... always near the curb. Mid-morning the next day I would knock on the door and ask if I could clean that stuff up for a quarter. Various expressions came forth as I pointed out the poop. I also wore unmatched shoes with a swipe of fresh odor to increase the drama of the moment. Housewives would look at my shoes and run for the quarter shrieking, “Of course you can honey!  Thank you!” I made sure they knew that times were hard and I was working to buy some new shoes. I made big money for a month...a dollar each day in one short hour. That included travel time as I switched to different neighborhoods each week. Free grazing poop dogs were my best friends. Then people somehow caught on. We all had party phone lines. I could have been a millionaire if it wasn’t for snoopy gossip. I had conquered another hard time!  I had 30 bucks! I was the richest kid on Birren Avenue. Some gossip called my mother. I quickly decided to lay low at Grandma’s house on Cutright Street for two weeks. Our town has always been a generous town. My new shoes didn’t draw that much attention... they were baseball shoes after all. Watch where you step!

Please hug your kids and forgive your neighbors!  It’s how we roll here.

God bless. Please forgive me, too.