Our Own Way

Our Own Way

Currently, we have our seven-year-old grandson visiting us. Julian is delightful and thoroughly enjoyable to be around, when he is getting his way. One day this past summer, as we were on our way to the swimming pool, I stopped to indulge his request for an ice cream cone. He decided he wanted a “Big Blast.” He was all smiles as he devoured the horrid-looking blue drink with whipped cream topping. Our next stop was the video store. When we finally found one he had not seen, I checked it out and was on my way out the door, when I noticed that Julian was not behind me. He had discovered a Nintendo game. By the time we finally left the store, he’d talked me into letting him play for about 30 minutes. Then I had to make a quick stop at a nearby department store for the pair of jeans I’d promised him. By the time we came out of the department store–without the jeans (he had now decided he wanted a type of jeans the store did not carry)–it was 4:40 pm. “Julian,” I said, “we are going to have to wait until tomorrow to go swimming. It is too late to swim today.” He folded his arms abruptly across his chest, stuck out his bottom lip and

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