Piccolo Teatro

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Tag: family

  • Scraped Knees and Torn Jeans

    There was a time when play was king—not the quiet, sit-down kind, but the loud, dusty, borderline-dangerous kind that required sunscreen you never used and rules you barely followed.  It… more ›

  • Kinder Chronicles, Room 3, 1974

    Teacher’s log, Kinder Day 31 I used to think I was in charge. That illusion lasted exactly four minutes on the first day of school—right up until Little Tommy licked… more ›

  • Dichoso El Árbol

    Music. For most, it is simply entertainment. For some, it fills the silence. For others, it is just noise, or a distraction from what weighs on the mind. But for… more ›

  • More Than a Story

    When I was a kid growing up, like any other kid, I had dreams about what I wanted to be when I grew up. A writer wasn’t one of them.… more ›

  • Instructions Not Included

    Parenting might be the only job on the planet where they hand you a freshly hatched human being and say, “Good luck,” and then just… leave. No orientation. No handbook.… more ›

  • Like Therapy – No Appointment Required

    Life is a journey—and what a messy, beautiful one it is. There are peaks that make you feel invincible, and valleys that make you question if you packed the right… more ›

  • Just Like Hers

    Funny how when you have a hankering for something, it doesn’t matter what else you have.If it’s not that one thing, you’re not satisfied.You’re left with just a little emptiness.… more ›

  • 87 Octane, a Pull Cord, and Chlorophyll

    Mowing the lawn. When I do it routinely — in season — it’s therapeutic. And yes, at my age, the body pays for it with soreness for a couple of… more ›

  • A Day In The Life

    A Casual, Day-Long Stroll in My Shoes The day starts like any other day.Which is to say: against my will. Weekends are exempt from this story. Those are mythical creatures.… more ›

  • Where Baseball Loved Us Back: Memories Filtered Through a Child’s Eyes

    There’s a certain magic to baseball that no other sport has ever quite managed to touch. Football thunders, basketball dazzles, soccer never stops moving—but baseball? Baseball breathes. It invites you… more ›

  • Tinkering

    Once upon a time, every kid was a tinkerer. We learned by unscrewing things, prying them open, poking around inside. Radios, bikes, door hinges, cassette decks — if it rattled,… more ›

  • The People in Our Lives

    I got to thinking about friendships recently—not the surface kind, but the ones that quietly (and sometimes loudly) shape who we are. I’m not even sure what sparked it. Maybe… more ›

  • Waking Up, (or Almost Sleeping)

    Ahhh, sweet slumber. The kind where your body finally stops twitching from yesterday’s chores and the blanket has molded perfectly to your shape. I’m out cold, dreaming of nothing, floating… more ›

  • Conversations With That Guy In The Mirror

    A funny reflection about my reflection. We all have that voice in our heads—the one we consult when making decisions, psyching ourselves up, or talking ourselves out of regrettable choices.… more ›

  • The Flavor of Family

    Food has a way of doing what nothing else can: it gathers us, roots us, and reminds us who we are. In our family, meals were never just about eating.… more ›