Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Meet Roger

 Meet roger. 



Roger was a friendly spider who came to visit earlier today. 

It seemed all too soon and sudden that he had to leave this earthly life when our neighbor-grandpa Rod sprayed him with insect killer. Funeral services were held. I was the pallbearer, and before I deposited roger into his large black casket I asked the children to say something nice about roger. Sophie said, "Roger was a spider." I agreed and added that he was indeed a spider, a very large one and friendly to boot. I then asked the children to say goodbye. Sophie's goodbye was simple even a trite: goodbye. Cheerfully said. Then Henry came to pay his respects. He looked at the dead thing sitting on the edge of the sandbox shovel. Roger's poor mangled body did not look at all stately or regal as it once had. And Henry's lip started to quiver. His eyes turned a weepy red. And no words could escape his embittered tongue. He ran, as little boys do, and hid his sensitive self, shielding his deepest feelings, and hiding his tears. Roger was gone. Roger. This ugly spider that we came to know and name just minutes before was gone. 

There's the story of Roger.

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