Eric Carle, Eric Carle, Let Me Ask You Something for a Change
Eric Carle, Eric Carle, I hope you can see: This daddy (that’s me) reading stories to three. Eric Carle, Eric Carle, your words that I’m reading, they’re the last my kids hear each night before dreaming. Eric Carle, Eric Carle, please don’t think me a stalker, even though I know ... Read More
My Father in the Attic
Among the clutter in our attic, unpacked through the twenty years since we moved into this house, rests a large framed photograph of my father taken when he was twenty-nine, or so I’ve been told. That photograph, about twenty-four by eighteen inches, leans against a beam, shrouded in black plastic ... Read More