Picture Puzzle
I have a very sore throat, which leaves me little time for writing much of anything as I'm so busy feeling sorry for myself. Still, there's a mystery to be solved.
My mom sent me a picture with a question the other day. The picture is from forty Christmases ago, hard enough itself to fathom without having to guess about stuff.
There are three children, in front of the tree. The boy on the left, who is 8, almost 9, is holding a wind instrument; it looks like a recorder but it's something else. The girl on the right rests her hand on what looks like an Easy Bake Oven or something along those lines; she would be 4, almost 5.
The boy in the middle, who would be 6 and not going to 7 any time soon, holds the mystery gift. No one as yet can recall what it was/is. Certainly not me.
The boy in the middle is in his PJs, by the way, while the other two kids are dressed. There could be any number of explanations for this, but the one I think is correct is that this boy, back in the early 1960s, developed of habit of getting sick around Christmas time for at least a couple of years. So they probably dragged his sorry butt out of bed for this picture, Christmas Eve or Christmas morning, with the mystery present nobody can remember, certainly not him. Still. It's interesting.
It was me, by the way.
My brother and his family came by last weekend, stopping on their way to see Ann's sister and her husband in British Columbia (Ann is my brother's wife). We had a great time. We wandered around the mall on Saturday night and had milkshakes and hung out, and then Sunday Bill, John and I had breakfast while Julie, Ann and the boys went to church (separate churches; more later), and then both families got together in the afternoon and we ate pizza and watched "The Incredibles" together. A fine day.
Bill's youngest is Ryan, 10 years old, who hasn't started his growth spurt yet so still seems smaller than his years (at his age I was taller than his dad is now, for example), a really charming kid who has an uncanny resemblance to Haley Osmond. At one point I said to him:
"Repeat after me, Ryan."
"OK."
"I see dead people."
This made him laugh, although I'm pretty sure he didn't get the joke.
His brother, almost 15, is Brendan (yes, my brother married into Irish-Catholic; it makes the family all that more interesting), who is now taller than his parents but probably is still hoping for another 4-5 inches at least before he's through (and, of course, don't we all?). Brendan is funny and smart and cynical in that 15-year-old way, still a pleasure to be around, although John looked like the Jolly Green Giant in the same room with the two of them.
Here's a picture of Ryan with his mom (far left) and his Aunt Susan (middle), and although the shades take away from the effect maybe you can get the Osmond resemblance.
And here's Brendan, all teenager attitude on the beach.
Mostly, though, sore throat and all, I wonder if you can figure out what I'm holding in the picture below. And if you can't, at least you have to admit that I was a cute kid.
4:51:18 PM 
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