The City Museum/Hash

 I was out with the Little Rock Hash House Harriers from the Big Dam Bridge for around an hour and a half this evening. There were only twenty or so along, and I had enormous fun. ...I took three of my four nieces and my one nephew to the St. Louis City Museum yesterday. I cannot count this as exercise. However, it was not a museum at all. It was a vast five-story maize built into the remainder of a downtown shoe factory. It was three hours of unending panic as I failed to keep sound track of three girls aged eight to thirteen. My somewhat brilliant fifteen-year-old nephew could not imagine my worry. The ten- and thirteen-year-old girls are destined to break hearts left and right. Perhaps their apparent kindness will mitigate the damage. ...The eight-year-old is a nearly magical wonder of maturity. Her name is, no shit, Jamima, as in the famous pancake aunt. She is overweight and likes to make funny faces, but she is also the Perkins superstar. I cannot wait to again sit alone with her at 6:30 on a Sunday morning and have her say, "I thought you were my dad, with glasses and a hat, sitting by yourself in that chair with a computer in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other."

I PLAN TO STAB. ...the next person who says "...selected shorts" for a collection of short stories.