"What is a home without children? Quiet." (--Henny Youngman)

Well, if you read my blog at all, you'll know that I have lots of "Eric stories."

My son, like most kids, was a riot when he was a child, and I admit, I thoroughly enjoyed all of his antics. Thanks to the wonders of email, facebook, twitter, flickr and cell phones, I'm able to see, pretty readily on any given day, what he's currently up to, and we invariably jot notes back and forth. Here he is hamming it up in his homage to Dexter:


Now, trust me, none of the stories I share with you all are even remotely new to Eric. I've often shared with him amusing anecdotes about what he was like as a child, because I want him to know how much I enjoyed him as a little guy.

You may remember me telling you in the past that when I lived in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia, my younger brother Eddie came to live with us for a number of years. (L-r: my brother Eddie and Eric):

Eric was just a little guy when Eddie moved in. As Eddie was getting settled, he and I took Eric to the hardware store to purchase some shades for the bedroom that was to become "Eddie's room." And since Eric was quite small at the time, he kept wandering off, away from me, into different aisles in the store, which made me a nervous wreck. After all, who knew what a little toddler could get into in a hardware store!?

Wherever he'd gone, he was tiny, and I couldn't see where he was, so I kept questioning, out loud:
"Eric! Where ARE you?" He would invariably reply, from an aisle or two away, in a fairly calm and quiet voice, "I'm right here."

I don't think Eddie, at that age, realized the havoc my son could create if left to his own devices. Eddie and I continued to discuss the exciting shades we'd come to purchase, but I continuously interrupted our discussions and called out to try to determine where Eric was.

After some time, when I still couldn't actually see him, I finally carefully enunciated, in a very firm, loud voice,:
"ERIC, WHERE ARE YOU,... AND WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

For all the store's patrons to hear, loudly and clearly, Eric replied, (perfectly mimicking the enunciation and tone of my voice):
"I'M RIGHT HERE... AND I'M JUST PICKING MY NOSE."

(I had to ask, right?...)

(Eric, below, looking particularly debonnaire, in that "Yearbook Yourself" application):



"Boy, n.: A noise with dirt on it." --(Not your Average Dictionary)