My nephew dislocated his elbow. His grandfather did it to him, the way he lifted him. Don’t lift a two-year-old by the wrists.
My sister, the child’s mother, now has a new thing to fear: people lifting her son by the wrists. I saw the terror in her eyes whenever someone extended their arms towards the child.
My other nephew, age six, informed me that people steal children. “I’m still a child,” he said, “so I have to be super careful.”
Later, after his uncle-to-be performed magic tricks, he asked me to make his stuffed bear, Mr. Red-Blue, disappear. I got up and threw the bear out the front door.
My mother wouldn’t believe him when he told her what I had done. “Uncle Michael wouldn’t do something like that,” she said.
“Mom, it’s true,” I said.
“He almost threw it into the street,” my nephew said.
“I didn’t throw it into the street,” I said.
“Almost,” said my nephew.
“How about if I pick you up by your wrists?” I said.
A man signs a shovel and so he digs.
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