It pained me to see it. Driving along, the signs were stark, sobering. Past lawns, dry and brown. Past fields of corn, leaves curled and brittle. Past homesteads and farms

It had taken a crowbar to do it.  That, and Mr. Schrock’s famous limb, the Left Leg of Leverage, to fit us all into the truck. The holiday had come.

“It’s three months, and we’re all undone.  I don’t know why it’s hitting us like this now, here.”  I feel it, too; tears leaking, heart paining.  “The one,” she nearly

I sigh, overwhelmed with exhaustion, sidelined by fatigue and bone-deep weariness.  But he’s expecting me.  I’m invited, so I go. We jump together.  “You stay over there,” I tell him.

Like a bolt of lightning flung from the heavens, he dropped it in my lap. “I’d like a sister,” he said, peering meaningfully at me. I think I croaked. I

If there were an encyclopedic set entitled “Great Mysteries of Modern Life,” this one would fill an entire volume of its own. It ranks right up there with “Where Do

Electro Boy (a.k.a. Mr. Middle School or Boy Three) is up(stairs), down(stairs), in and out, likely jumping on the beloved Circle of Fun with his baby brother, Little Schrock.  Yesterday,

That was the status that went up on Facebook on Tuesday last.  Fifteen phriends ‘liked’ it.  One alert Iowa girl, herself a mother of boys, pointed out that there were