Kid's Kisses
When husband Three and I lived in Houston, we decided to build a country house on a piece of land we owned in beautiful Washington County. Three and I did all the work ourselves, in stages, so that we wouldn't have a mortgage.
Eagerly, we rented out our old house and moved to the new one, which still suffered from bare walls of “itch”alation, temporary porches, and raw ceilings. Three traveled an hour back and forth to Houston to work while the kids and I settled in to new territory, new schools, and new building skills to complete our home.
Some of our many dogs and cats didn’t settle so well. Country was scary after the city life they’d been living. In fact, one cat, Mingo, decided that sleeping on the roof was the safest thing to do, even though that roof was as high as a three story building.
Kid, the baby of the family who would grow up to be known as Kid Coffee, was just a little boy at the time. One of the temp porches was his main playground. He was only allowed on the “ground” when one of us was outside with him. With snakes and other dangers around, and living 20 minutes from the nearest town, I wasn't taking any chances.
One day after a refreshing rain, Kid came in from playing on the porch and asked, “Can I have a canny [candy] Kiss?”
“You could if we had any,” I replied, wondering why the little fellow had thought of candy at all, let alone a specific kind. Candy was rare in our house. “Would you take a real kiss instead?” I asked him.
“We have canny ones,” he replied.
“We do? Where?” I asked, wondering if his older brother had hid some away and Kid had discovered the stash.
Kid took me by the hand and led me out onto the temporary porch. With much anticipation he pointed to several unwrapped, perfectly formed chocolate Kisses, lined up under the drip line of the steep roof.
Apparently, Mingo had also decided that pooping on the roof was safer than pooping on the ground. The rain and three-story drop had created poop Kisses on the porch.
