“Broccoli Donuts”

Ry at our laptop being smart as always 11-27-18

“What do you want to do Aunt Amy?”

“Why don’t you play tic tac toe?”

And we did, per her Grandma’s helpful suggestion of how to occupy our time. I showed my bright niece ways to strategize to increase chances of winning. Even so, she genuinely whipped my butt in our first 3 matches because I mistakenly looked to block her pieces rather than promote my side.

Our homemade board was actually made of felt, with blue X’s that I named blueberry pretzels after deciding to call my own green O’s exactly what they appeared to be, unappetizing broccoli-flavored donuts.

Prior to playtime I gave my niece her spelling test & also helped the second grader with other things from her homework packet; one part involved answering questions about 4 different stories, kinda like 4 mini book reports. One question about a book wanted details in more than one complete sentence.

I offered: “You can say ‘The book was funny’ if it made you laugh.” So she did. But we still needed one more statement.

“How do you spell ‘crazy’?” asked the 8-year-old. I advised her to instead use the term ‘silly’ so she didn’t name call a character in the book ‘crazy’.

Neither of us suspected that listening to our every word was her fourth grade brother on the other side of the wall using the laptop. The ears of the unassuming hotshot instantly picked up on my brain blunder & by golly, quicker than cold comes in a Michigan winter came his incessantly impeccable input:

“Actually, ‘funny’ & ‘silly’ are synonyms

so technically that’s the same sentence.”


The End

By Aunt Amy






“Can you type in my password?”

So she did. It’s really hard to balance a toddler on your lap & reach your arms around the child to log into your Desktop account & then on top of that, find the kid a tune on the laptop that they like to jam to, & all this while simultaneously making sure they don’t fall off your lap & get hurt in the process. Headache 101.

So I was IMMENSELY RELIEVED that my Mom was in the vicinity to ask her to do the keyboard typing on my behalf. Until . . .

She bent down, grabbed the black mouse to click on the box to type in my long password, regrettably failed to realize the “caps lock” button was mistakenly left on which disarms the “shift” button’s ability to capitalize any letters, looked up at the screen & out of her mouth shot a phrase that when I heard the beginning of –

“Oh, SH” 

– I instinctively took all possible precautions. So, clutching my sweet nephew even tighter than before, I leaned my head down towards his little noggin in hopes to soften the oncoming verbal blow after she realized the error. Here it comes . . .

. . . Fully Flabbergasted & Royally Relieved was I to hear an outcome other than the one I’d been bracing the child for. 

I never loved the letter “f” so much before in my life:

“Oh, SHIFT!”

The End

By Aunt Amy


“Boys Will Be Joys”

“Grandma, help me pack Monopoly up!” her polite grandson called after his Dad arrived & he had to leave.

Grandma told the boy to leave it because she’ll take care of it; for the 4th grader on the pitch black winter evening, it was a school night.

The day prior another of my 7 nephews shared a joke after I started the joke swap by sharing one of his cousin’s latest laughable lines. My nephew delivered the funniest “Yo’ Mama” joke I’ve ever heard. In no way, of course, does the following humor reflect the considerate & thoughtful youngster’s own personal attitude. It’s just something he heard somewhere & went a little something like this:

“Yo’ mama’s so fat when she was in the ocean, a whale swam up to her & sang, ‘We are fa-mi-ly!’”


How fun for me to be an aunt to 10 remarkable children, everywhere I turn something new & amusing happening. Nothing beats the chuckle-worthy honesty of growing little ones. Like, for instance, my 2 oldest nephews informing me upon witnessing me in the act during mealtime many years ago when they were just 6 & 8 –

way too young to realize that my facial paralysis was the unavoidable cause of it –

that it was very bad manners for me to chew with my mouth open. Likewise, returning to Monopoly, I couldn’t help but overhear my nephew & his Grandpa together enjoy their lively match. I don’t think either of the 2 realized at all just how loud they each got while they played the game.

“I can’t buy it,” said Grandpa referring to his inability to pay for the property he landed on after rolling the dice. “I’m po’.”

“Me too. I can’t afford anything!”

“You’re not really a criminal?” Grandpa asked his grandson later.

Replied the little guy who’d obviously landed atop the jailhouse – “Just visiting.”

And on & on they went. Guy talk. Increasing in volume as they spurred each other further on.

As a lover of all English language items myself, I was especially tickled hearing the astute 10-year-old utilizing his impressive elementary school education to scold his opponent. Evidently, well into their game the slang being slung his way grew rather intolerable:

“Stop saying “po’”,” the boy warned his Grandpa. “That’s grammatically incorrect.”

Ry & Dad play Monopoly 11-15-18.JPG

The End

By Aunt Amy