Our neighbors, the Alstons were both just a smidge off-plumb. Mother never referred to the kids any way but as “the Awfuls”, so I inferred that was the surname of these totally undisciplined urchins. I was unceasinly envious of their unbridled freedom. They ate, slept, and rambled at their pleasure, while I chafed at the unreasonable restraints of my miserable life.
Like the rest of us, they couldn’t wait for Christmas. Every year, they starting finding their presents about a week before Christmas. Daily, one of them turned up something new. One day, Randy had a brand new basketball. The next, Jamey had a new baseball and glove. On Christmas Eve morning Davey buzzed by on a beautiful new Spitfire Bike with a horn. Boy, did that make me mad! I had asked my Mother for that very bike. She said Santa didn’t have enough money to bring me a…
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Oh! What a story! That was most enjoyable.
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Thank you. I so admired those kids.
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You may have admired those kids, but you didn’t want any of your own just like them, did you???
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Oh, no. I wanted to be them, not raise them.
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The Awfuls raised Cain, didn’t they?
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Yes they did.
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