withdrawn

The family and I had an impromptu memorial day BBQ in the backyard this evening. A small potpourri from our block joined us.

Obi-Wan was feeling up to getting out tonight. After dinner, he and his electric wheelchair served as an amusement park ride for my kids, each anxiously waiting their turn.

Frieda Sanford and her unique assortment of brood-lings attended. The Tiger stayed home and called her cell phone from next door asking for Frieda to bring him a plate back. I should go over there and give him hell for that. Get your fat ass over and join us.

Rodrick and his half sister Lydia were there. I haven't seen Rodrick since the last time I wrote of him.

Both he and Lydia are the cutest, sweetest, and smartest kids I've ever known. They are also the most bizarrely withdrawn children ever. They sometimes look you in the eye, but only when they think you're not looking. And their voice is rarely above a whisper.

I'm sure being raised by your grandmother and being passed around from one far-out relative to another has helped create this shell they are in. But I wonder what else may have put them there.

I wonder what would get them out.