On the last day of school four sixth grade boys showed up at my house. They had grocery bags of ice cream and a separate bag with an ice cream scoop, spoons, and bowls just in case I wasn’t home and they had to enjoy their ice cream out on the deck. But they really hoped I
![Cross country season](http://thekriegers.org/wp-content/uploads/xc-135-300x225.jpg)
This fall David joined his middle school’s cross country team. The second he joined the team, before he even brought home his school-issued singlet, I fell head-first into the murky waters of living vicariously through my kid’s sport. Until now I’ve been completely immune to this. As a person who can barely throw — and
![Semantics – did you hear the one about the big brother?](http://thekriegers.org/wp-content/uploads/david-300x225.jpeg)
Early one morning, Thomas started his day by pestering all of us to tell him a scary story. He tried me, Tom, and eventually landed on David as the most likely to come up with something good. They were sitting together eating waffles for breakfast and even though Thomas had been told no several times
![Semantics – Wherein the jokes are finally intentional](http://thekriegers.org/wp-content/uploads/david-002-300x225.jpg)
We aren’t a condiment family. Did you know that? Nearly 10 years of blogging and I’ve never mentioned it. Tom doesn’t like mayonnaise — that’s generally well-known. But neither Tom nor I like ketchup, and we could take or leave most everything else. Tom doesn’t even use salad dressing. (As with everything, I’m much less