Floyd and I were in the car tonight talking about our youngest daughter, Michelle. She can’t keep secrets. If you tell her a secret that you expect her to keep, that’s simply not going to happen.
She’ll ask me, “What did you get Dad for his birthday?”
“I can’t tell you. You’ll tell him.”
“No, I won’t. I promise. I can keep secrets.”
I know she can’t, but it’s fun to watch her. “Okay. I bought him a WWII DVD.”
Then Michelle will run down Floyd. “Dad, what do you want for your birthday?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought about it.”
“Would you like a DVD?”
“Michelle!”
“I didn’t tell him anything, Mom. He guessed a war movie all by himself.”
Because Michelle loves to share secrets, she keeps up on the news. I can’t begin to count the number of times that she called me and said, “Mom, did you hear about…? And more often than not, she hears about it before I do. She’s so disappointed when I already know.
Floyd said tonight, “Just think, Michelle could get a job at the government shredding top secret documents.” I started laughing. “Michelle can read. I could see it now. The phone would ring and it would be Michelle calling from work. ‘Mom, you’ll never believe this. I’m reading this Top Secret document and guess what it says…'”