My sister sent me a link to this article, “Slow Road to Grieving,” published in the San Francisco Chronicle five years after the attacks of September 11, 2001. About it she said, “Somewhat hard to read, but good.”

We were at Pops’ retirement community for its annual Labor Day BBQ. The grannies were all over the Lil’ Monkey like a cheap suit, like peanut butter on jelly, like brown on rice, like– like– well, like grannnies on a toddler. Symbiosis at its finest.

A B aba can be forgiven her pride, though, over the fact that something is getting into the child’s mouth. [For fans of chopstickiana, here’s what I happened upon after a short tour among the Google findings for “chopstick learning curve.”]