You Can Get Knocked-Down Too, You Know

My mother tells this story about her and my father: One day, during her first pregnancy - with my sister - she and Dad were walking along. When they reached the corner Dad stopped, but she continued walking accross the street without looking. Since there was a car coming, Dad grabbed her and pulled her back to the curb, and said "you can get knocked-down too, you know."

More! More!

When The Boy, his mother and I still lived together our mail was delivered through a mail slot in the front door. The boy was near the door one evening (for reasons that neither make much sense and are too long to go into now, our mail was delivered in the evening - sometimes very late in the evening when it was delivered at all) as the mail started to arrive through the mail slot a few envelopes at a time. The boy put out his hands to catch the mail and shouted: "More! More!"

Where's my food?

About two years ago my mother, my sister, The Boy, and I went out to dinner at Mr. Chen's on Connecticut Avenue in Woodley Park. We were seated and handed menus. Before the waitress had returned to take our orders, the boy immediately looked around and asked "where's my food?"

Why would I covet my neighbor's ass?

Exodus 17 - "You shall not covet your neighbor's house; you shall not covet your neighbor's wife, or his manservant, or his maidservant, or his ox, or his ass, or anything that is your neighbor's."