I've had a hard life, but I don't complain. I share it with you so you will see how the blessings of family can accomplish miracles.

  My mom was a renowned sociologist, with alot of unusual paradigms that clashed with the current climate of thought. I was a rather unexpected child, for she had already given birth 12 years before, to my beautiful sister Peggy.

  My Dad is a theoretical physicist, working on string theory at the university.

  He was delighted when a healthy baby boy arrived one winter night in the worst blizzard of the past decade.  I was 11 lbs 3 oz, a bit overdue...6 weeks, actually...

  Bundled in a blue blanket I left the hospital a few days later.  Dad slipped on the ice carrying me but no harm was done. Me and Mom and Dad assembled ourselves in Mom's SUV, me in a brand new top of the line baby seat. We set off. 

  At the first stoplight Dad skidded the car into the intersection and a bus slammed us from the rear. I was ejected from the baby seat, which Mom in her haste to get me home had tied incorrectly. I flew through the side window---which was open so Dad could smoke---and bounced a few times on the icy road, then skidded under the wheel of the bus.

  I was cut clean in half.

  The bus driver jumped out, picked up the only part of me he could find (my top half...my bottom half had been squished by the rear wheels), and , after checking on my parents, who were stunned but ok,  brought me right back in the hospital door I had just exited  not ten minutes eariler.

  I was saved by his heroic efforts. They stitched me up the best they could and a week later I was ready to go home...

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  Mom's sociological paradigms were severly affected by this accident. She began writing articles for the journals that were soundly criticized for an over-emphasis on guilt in intersocial relations.  She became severely depressed.

  I was well tended to. I occupied a corner of the couch, in front of the tv, during the day.  A nice Indian lady was hired to be my caretaker. Dad was very busy on string theory---in fact, he was approaching a breakthrough, so he depended on Maya, my nurse, and Peggy to take care of me.  Peggy was being home-schooled anyway, so she was always home to take care of me.  Feed me. Change my ostomy bag. Insert catheters, etc...

  Mom retired from sociology and retreated to her room. I saw very little of her. I barely remember her, because on my first birthday she commited suicide by drinking a half gallon of bleach , in the laundry room. Peggy found her. She was never quite the same after that.

  Of course i was by now a bit of a local celebrity. The newspaer kept track of me, and when my Mom died they sent a reporter over to interview all of us.  Dad was late to the interview, but handled it well. They took a picture of me in his lap, not a very good picture, because i was kind of sliding down his leg. He was holding his briefcase by his side, full of important string theory work.  Only the top of my head appeared in the picture. But it was a sensitive, well written article.

  When Maya stared taking me out to  the playgrounds, where i was obviously  quite an unusual spectacle, Dad fired her.  I missed her very much. Now it fell upon my sister to take care of me.

  One thing that changed around the house is that the laundry never got done anymore. Peggy refused to go anywhere near the laundry room, which was down in the basement.  The basement contained thousands of books, sociology and physics, etc. Dad didn't have the time to get rid of Mom's books. He was even busier than usual, proposing a novel experiment to prove one of his string theories.

  I liked to hide in the piles of laundry, just for fun.  Peggy never really looked for me, though, so it lost its luster after awhile. She was glued to her computer most of the day, doing i don't know what.

  I kind of learned to fend for myself. When I got to be 3 i could reach the refridgerator door and kind of pull myself up into it, looking for goodies. The only trouble with that was if i crawled way back to where the fruits are, to get, say, a peach, the refridgerator door would slam back and i'd be trapped in there awhile, until Peggy got hungry. But she had become anorexic, so sometimes the wait was pretty long.  By the way, the light in the fridge goes off when the door shuts, if you don't know...

  So Dad would come home and grab a snack before going back to the university, and find me. Sometimes i fell asleep in there and Dad wouldn't notice me. Most times he did, though.

  Dad would do the laundry once it had completely taken over the house, smelly piles everywhere. He'd collect it and throw it in green lawn bags, and take it with him. It took a long time for it to come back, because my Dad had more important things on his mind than laundry.

  These days i make my refrigerator   raids in the early evening, right before Dad gets home, in case the worst case scenario happens and i'm trapped in there. Then i bring my goodies to the couch, watch my tv, and am content.

  Someday i hope to be able to help with the laundry. It's the least i could do, to make a contribution. My family means everything to me. I am blessed.

  Unfortunately