When our Creator set up the universe for us, He planned it perfectly. But it didn’t go according to the blueprint. Although there was land and seas and nature with bounty populated with all kinds of animals, there was something missing — the family unit. You know that story, the first family was a disappointment. It was probably a mistake that man with defective brains could be tempted to stray.

From that first family experiment, man and woman continued exploring the dynamics of what a wholesome family unit could be. One interesting part of it is how our Creator decided how male and female, including animals, would proliferate to keep the world going. You know how it is. The male is to fertilize an egg in the female, resulting in an ever-loving union. Animals do it the same way. There are two things that will change man’s destiny. One is death, and the other is having children, an extremely costly enterprise.

At a ripe and mature age, I did not know what had overcome me when searching rather desperately for a female, who had the same desires and passions I had. After we united in holy matrimony, it didn’t take that long to conceive.

Many immature men think having a new baby in the house is like buying a new lawnmower. When my baby girl was born, my mother-in-law moved in with us and became the “man” of the house, inferring I knew nothing about newborns. If I’m old enough to fight wars, changing a baby’s diaper would be a delight. My in-law finally became tired guarding her granddaughter, leaving me the responsibility of shooting anyone coming near my precious daughter. She was so cute and there’s nothing prouder than a proud papa.

And then to continue populating the earth, our loving relationship produced a boy and twin boys, all four kids in four years, four months. It became necessary to hold a conference with my adorable wife; we must cool our relationship down, so I can focus on food, shelter and doctor visits, or we’ll perish. The more children you have, you begin wondering when enough is enough.

All babies begin to develop personalities before they can talk. You’d think they’d want to be like dad, but they don’t. They are so cute until they start walking. Don’t do that, don’t keep flushing the commode. For about five years, parents repeat, “Stop it!” At age 6, they begin to know it all. A don’t-do-that command gets a “why” response. If you say, “because I said so,” they throw a fit. I don’t want to talk about the teenage years. Silly girls begin noticing what boys are for after wearing a training bra. There’s little hope for boys, particularly if you let them get behind a wheel. One of my boys won the “smash-up” award when he backed out of our garage with a car door open, and a tree took it off.

We get to know our children through these trials and tribulations. Then at age 18, they disperse to the four-corners. Mom and Dad are too old-fashioned. I’ll raise my kids the modern way. Due to their busy lives, parents don’t hear from them that often. Occasionally, a note like, “We had a baby, more later.” Or “Lost my job and coming to your house to stay.” They’ll still visit during Christmas to open fancy packages for which their mother shopped three months.

Listen, children, I’ve been through the wars, and it’s not pretty. Take my advice. That’s why they went away. Advice that worked in the last century doesn’t apply in the cyber age. If they’re alive and well, what more can you ask for?

You do get to re-know who they are when they return to help you make it through the old-age curse. It’s when body and mind parts sink into a feebler state. Never thought I’d ever depend on my offspring. They’ve changed from what they were. They aren’t cute like they were. Somehow, they’ve matured more than I ever did. I don’t say “don’t” anymore, but when they issue a command, I snap to it.

Family units have kept the world intact. If our government wants to help, it could do something about keeping children in schools from being shot.

All I have remaining is my Creator, who created my family with a special touch. Listen to us and we’ll keep your spirit alive. Nourishing neighbors and your family are what make life worth living.

— Contact Terry Cummins at TLCTLC@AOL.com.

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