I know the stories I've told about my Dad
My kids do too – I've told them often
enough.
But this morning while I was riffing on the
old man's foibles
It struck me. I wonder. Does my daughter tell this kind of
stuff
………….on me?
I know the stories I tell about when I was
a kid.
My Mom never knew some things I did back in
the day.
If she'd known what I was doing she'd have been horrified.
I wonder, when my daughter tells her stories would they
……horrify me?
I know the stories I tell about my kids
when they were young
My kids were there and, when I tell them, off
they go to hide.
They complain when I tell stories; don't think they're all that funny.
I wonder if, when I'm not around, they tell
their own side
….of those same stories?
My daughter is too much like me, quick
witted, opinionated and stubborn.
Like me, she lives her own life the way she
chooses, free and wild.
But now I'm old enough to look forward to the
stories she once hid from me,
I expect that, when I hear them, I shall
discover that she is truly a child
………...of mine?
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