Sunday, October 9, 2011

A Kid's Story

My Uncle Moved In

My uncle moved in today. My mom says she needs help around the house, to clean and to cook.

My dad used to be a great cook. He made spaghetti and his own tomato sauce. He even let me roll the meatballs.

My uncle tries to help me with my homework. To help me read and say big words.

But my dad was better at it. When he read to me he always used funny voices that made me laugh.

My Uncle tries to take me to the supermarket, but he buys all the wrong food.

My Dad knew all the foods I liked. He even let me have special candies and chocolate cereal!

My Uncle tries to play catch with me, but he throws the ball too soft. I hate it!

My dad threw it hard because he knew I was good at sports and could catch anything.

My uncle tries to put me to sleep at night, but he does it all wrong. He reads the
wrong stories, puts too many blankets on me, and never leaves my door open the right way.

Dad did it perfect.

So I decide to run away. I pack a picture of my dad, my baseball glove, some candy bars, and I run into the woods. It doesn’t take long for me to hear sirens. I know people are looking for me, but I don’t care. I’m never going home again. Never.

Soon I hear someone walking towards me in the woods. It’s my uncle.

“Why are you here?” my uncle says. “Everyone is looking for you.”

“Because this is my special place,” I say. “It’s a fort I built with my dad.”

I bet my Uncle wants to say he’s good at building forts, too. I bet he wants to take away what my dad did, but instead he just smiles.

“I bet your dad was the best at building forts,” my uncle says.

“He was,” I say.

“I don’t know anything about forts,” my uncle says. “But I want you to know something. I love you very, very much.”

We both sit still for a long while, until I decide to take my Uncle's hand. He’s got big hands, just like my dad did.

“I’m ready to go home,” I say. And we walk together, one step at a time.

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