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Peep.
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Marsha was my first child. Wow. All the wonders and other amazing stuff that starts when you begin having kids, especially dealing with girl babies, ...well that stuff started with Marsh's arrival. After you get older and life has moved on, even memories can't explain what that whole wonderful thing was all about. Not to me. Of course, at the time, for me it was perfect because I could do all kinds of nutty stuff and when someone asked me what was I doing, I could say I was amusing Marsha. I just luxuriated in it. And Marsha, she would always say stuff that very often got me out of trouble. Like that time when Rae came back from shopping early and walked in when I was bouncing a big plastic balloon off of Marsha's head. Rae gave one look and was in the middle of "What in the world are you doing?" When this little thing, said, "When is it my turn Daddy?" She just seemed to (me) always to be in magical mode and she kept me in the 'can't wait to get home stage'. It got to be such a habit, it never wore off. Even after all the kids had left the coop.
Many, many times after Rae was asleep, I would look at her, to see that expression she always wore while she was sleeping. It didn't matter how many years passed, I could always see in her sleeping face where all that magical stuff came from.
Many, many times after Rae was asleep, I would look at her, to see that expression she always wore while she was sleeping. It didn't matter how many years passed, I could always see in her sleeping face where all that magical stuff came from.
So I ran home a lot and never stopped.
But this day I was downtown, Easter was coming up and in a large window of a store on Chestnut street you could see these little chicks running around, on the floor of the window. Oh wow! How would, a not yet 2 year old, Marsha react to an Easter Chick.
Thoughtless me, I never considered anything else, except mentally marveling about Marsha with the chick. So I went in. They put one in a corrugated carrier with air holes and I went home with a chick inside the box. I don't remember much about what Rae said, except, "What the hell is that noise??"
But this day I was downtown, Easter was coming up and in a large window of a store on Chestnut street you could see these little chicks running around, on the floor of the window. Oh wow! How would, a not yet 2 year old, Marsha react to an Easter Chick.
Thoughtless me, I never considered anything else, except mentally marveling about Marsha with the chick. So I went in. They put one in a corrugated carrier with air holes and I went home with a chick inside the box. I don't remember much about what Rae said, except, "What the hell is that noise??"
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Marsha is gonna visit Chickee
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Peep!
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But, if you don't remember, or you never had a chick, there were a lot of peep, peep, peeps and poop on the floor and after Marsha decided we were going to keep the chick, I insisted they let it be me that cleaned up the poop. The thing about that was, I was always away during the day and most times a lot of the early evening. I don't remember ever seeing any poop on the floor, unless I caught the chick in the act.
So I suggested and we got a cardboard container. I got a single edged razor (no box cutters in those days) so I could slice most of the sides off, high enough, you know, so it would keep the chick inside. Then I put some straw on the bottom. That was Chickee's home. The whole thing was kept in the bathroom, up against the wall and under the kids dressing contraption. And during the night we kept the bathroom door closed.
There was some minor glaring and stuff but it was nothing compared to the delight of watching Marsha and the chick. And you could hardly hear the peeps from the bathroom during the night. You know, hardly. . Well, days and days passed, the chick kept getting bigger and Marsha, she insisted on helping to feed the chick and she even cleaned up a poop or two. And then, on this morning, I got up to go, I opened the bathroom door and I couldn't see the chick when I looked into the bathroom, after being careful with the door. She was not in the box and you could see she was not anyplace in the bathroom. It didn't take long to look around the rest of the place and, nope, no chick anywhere.
But, I did have to go and when I reentered the bathroom and went to the john, there was the chick. In the john. I hadn't realized, what with her flopping around and flapping her wings, that she could navigate to out of the box, let alone get as high as the edge of the john.
Oh, my. Oh my. I quickly got a paper bag to put her in. Don't ask me how I disposed of the bag. Then I just got back into bed. Sleep? Forget about it.
When Marsha got up she shook me and said, "Daddy, where is Chickee? we can't find Chickee." The best I could do was , "Did you ask your mother? Did you look in the closet? How bout the lower drawers in the dresser?" Not there or any place else. Chickee was gone alright..
So I sat down with Marsha, and said, 
"Marsha, did you notice Chickee was not a person? You know, like you, and me, and mommy? Or even Pop Pop?" Marsha had one of her concerned, thoughtful expressions. I continued, "Probably she went looking for her chick family so she could run around outside and not have to stay in our bathroom. She must have gone to be with her chick family. Tell you what. We are going to the beach in the summer. When we drive down to go to the beach, in Atlantic City, we will have to pass a lot of chick families because Atlantic City is in New Jersey and that is where they have a lot of chick farms. You remind me so I can show you some of the chick families and we will look for Chickee."
She sat there for a long time seemingly in thought. Maybe more than a couple of minutes and then she got up and went over and asked Rae,
"Mommy, when we go to the beach can we go see chickee?"
As for me, when I close my eyes, I can still see Marsha and Chickee together, One of my best ideas, ever.
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